


Twelveton Abbey

by Alliswell



Category: Downton Abbey, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Antagonist to Friends, Aristrocrat Everlark, Arranged Marriage, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Downton Abbey/THG Crossover, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Secrets, Fluffy Ending, Future Toastbabies!, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Mention of Miscarriages, Mild Child (Verbal) Abuse, Reference to Real Historical Events, Sass and Cleverness, Slight Angst with touches of humor, Upstairs/Downstairs reference, betrothals, pregnancies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6325621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is April 16th of 1912, England wakes up to tragic news of Titanic proportions. Meanwhile, Lord George Everdeen, Fifth Earl of Panemshire, is left with two problems at the loss of his Heir Apparent: first, he needs to appoint a new Heir to his title, wealth and beloved estate, as soon as possible, or lose all of his family's earthly possessions; second, he needs to find an appropriate match for his eldest daughter, the Lady Katniss, who's also lost her fiancé in the maritime disaster. Humble baker, Peeta Mellark, might just be the solution to all of Lord Panemshire's problems... if only his daughter, wasn’t so determined to antagonize the young baker at every turn!   </p><p>For the Springtime '16, Everlark Fic Exchange on tumblr, Prompt #23 by @otrascosasseries: Downton Abbey crossover, with Everlark as Mary and Matthew Crawley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own either Downtown Abbey, nor THG, but this has been a very fun experience. Me, nor my collaborators percieved financial gain through this work.
> 
> Unbetead. But, I would love a beta for subsequent chapters, in case there are any takers. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Special Thanks To:
> 
> Shellibug, who served as my audience, proofread, and colloquial expert. She's responsible for one of the biggest plot tweaks from the original DA. 
> 
> Beautiful Banner by the always talented loving_mellark, who always leaves me slackened jaw, with the art she comes up with!

 

**Prelude**

 

**London, early autumn, 1899.**

 

 

The crunch of leaves under the boy's hand-me-down boots, was oddly satisfying, as he took deliberate steps toward his father, who stood at the other side of the garden talking to some distant relation.

 

The boy wasn't quite sure why they were there, but he was definitely happy Father decided to bring the whole family along. The property was by far, the biggest place the boy had ever seen in his short six years of age. At the moment, he was exploring the gardens with seasonal blooms and the gazebo lavishly decorated, there was even a small pond a few meters yonder, complete with ducks and crickets and small frogs! He knew this, because his older brothers caught a very green one!

 

The little boy had never known such a place could be found in the city limits of London; it certainly felt like being in the countryside, except for the opulence of the manor sitting at the heart of all the fading greenery. He wondered what the grounds would look like during other seasons. Would the place look like one of those gingerbread houses his father made during the Christmas time, all covered under a blanket of snow so white it would blind anyone looking too intently? Or would there be buzzing bumblebees zooming along lively butterflies, around the gardens' blooms, during spring time? Would the sun shine brighter here, than the rest of the city during summer? But the boy's rumination ceased abruptly, when a male voice called out loudly to get the other guests attentions,

 

"Everyone, please gather round!" The large group of guests mingling about the gardens stopped what they were doing at once. "Come round, if you would be so gracious," the man continued, "my sweet daughter has asked me, if she could delight us all with a song, before we serve refreshments. You all know me... I can never say no to my little Katniss!" The man dressed in the most impressive finery the boy had ever seen, laughed loudly at his own words, eliciting half hearted, albeit polite chuckles from the rest of the present company.

 

"Come my darling," the man beckoned someone from behind him.

 

The boy, finally joined the rest of his family, but could barely peek through the gaps between bodies pressing together in front of him, he really was trying to watch the speaker and his daughter... Katniss, he had call her. The boy thought for a second of the peculiarity of such a name; very unusual, but with such a nice ring to it all the same, he was curious to see what a girl with a name like that, looked like. Would she be as peculiar as her name?

 

"Up you go, Little Flower!" The man said hoisting up a little girl on top of a sitting stool.

 

The little girl donning a red, plaid coat, over her solid red dress, stood proudly before the crowd, not the least bit intimidated by the eyes watching her. That act of bravery alone, had managed to captivate the boy's undivided attention.

 

He noticed the two long braids that fell down the girl's back, she had got the darkest hair color he'd ever seen. She had a delicate face, even with her round rosy cheeks, which was the most the boy could make out from afar. Still he thought she might've be pretty enough. Yes! the name might even match the owner!

 

"Good afternoon everyone! My name is Katniss Mary Everdeen, I'm five years old, and I'm going to sing my baby sister's favorite song: The Valley song!"

 

The girl had the cutest little girl voice, the boy could recall in his very limited memory. It sounded like the babble of a brook, or like bells chiming in a church, or...

 

"Boy! Get back here and snap out of it! You're embarrassing me!" Hissed the grating voice of the boy's mother, right after her talon-like nails dug into his stockier than usual-for boys-his-age shoulder. She pulled him back next to her, but his father noticed the harsh treatment, and giving a warning glare to his wife, he kneeled next to his youngest son.

 

"Peeta, my boy, would you like to sit atop my shoulders? You might be able to see better from up there, and you wouldn't be bumping into people to catch a glance," the father's voice was kind, but when he winked at the boy, he felt his cheeks warm up.

 

Peeta, as the boy's name was, nodded all the same, because he did want to see better, and he realized, he had been elbowing his way to the front of the crowd, right before his mother broke his enchanted-like state.

 

"Alright, hop on." And with that the boy was lifted above his father's head, to sit over his broad shoulders. They were indeed at the very back of the gathering, so no one complained about the child obstructing the view.  


 

It was right on time to see the girl smile brightly at her audience, and then she opened her mouth sucking in a big mouthful of air, and Peeta, found out what angels sounded like.

 

He could have sworn every bird that had been singing merrily on the branches above his head, had fallen silent, to listen to the sweet, clear voice of the girl with the twin braids. He was sure there was no sound in the whole wide world, more beautiful than her song. His little heart drummed rapidly in his chest, making it hard to breathe... he knew, right then and there, that little girl, Katniss Mary Everdeen, owned his rushing heart!

 

Peeta Matthew Mellark, third son of a humble baker in the merchant section of London, was a goner.


	2. 1912

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit goes to the wonderful ladies that make me look good!: 
> 
> Shellibug, who proofread, corrects my proper English and even improves my story with her valued opinions. Thank you!
> 
> Also much love and gratitude to Loving_Mellark for the beautiful gif banner, you inspire me with your art! 
> 
> And, Thank **You**! For reading my stories!
> 
> Trigger Warning: this chapter contains imagery and/or non descriptive allusions to sexual assault, reader discretion is advised.

 

 

 

**_Volume_ _I_ **

 

 

**Twelveton Abbey, 16th April, 1912**

The rapid steps of Mr. Boggs resonated over the polished marble of the vestibule floor, as he reached the main door to the manor, to answer the insistent knocking. A fidgety messenger, wringing the life out of his poor woolen cap, stood waiting at the other side of the entrance.

 

"Morning, sir! Message for Lord Panemshire." The younger man hastily handed over a pristine white envelope, carefully folded and sealed. Once the missive was delivered, the youth hitched back his cap on to his head, and with a curt nod, was off, to continue his duty.

 

Mr. Boggs didn’t linger, quickly closing the door and heading up a flight of stairs to find his master, and recipient of the envelope. Mr. Boggs arrived to the opened door to the study, just in time to see Lord Panemshire take a sip of his morning coffee, seated behind his desk simply enjoying the quiet moment.

 

As any good Butler would, Mr. Boggs knocked the door politely, announcing his presence. As lords go, The Earl of Panemshire was by far the friendliest, nicest, and least arrogant aristocrat Boggs had ever worked for, so he smiled minutely when the decade younger Earl looked up startled, spilling coffee on his desk and subsequently, tried to pat down the mess with whatever papers were stacked in front of him.

 

"My apologies, sir. May I take over from your valiant attempt at tidying up your work area? I believe your attention would be much better suited, reading the letter that just arrived via urgent delivery." Said Boggs chancing a bigger smile, that was reflected back at him by the Earl.

 

A fleeting thought crossed the man's mind, as his master rushed to retrieve the envelope from him with consternation starting to wrinkle his brow: Boggs would have never jest with the previous Earl, nor would he'd ever attempt conversation with the man he served before him. It certainly was a good feeling to know, your superior was a man you had the potential to call friend in another life.

 

"Urgent delivery you say?" Muttered the Earl returning behind his desk, envelope in hand. He plucked the letter opener from the top drawer, and stabbed the seal, breaking it open.

 

"Yes, my Lord. The messenger just left."

 

Lord Panemshire quickly and silently scanned the yellow slip of paper, clearly belonging to Telegraph company in town. The longer he read it, the more creases appeared in his otherwise handsome face. His eyes jumped back to the top and skimmed all the way down to the bottom a few times, as is his brain wouldn't comprehend the message conveyed in the typed words in front of him.

 

Slowly and heavily, he slumped back onto his chair.

 

Worry lines formed all over his features, before he let the slip of paper fall on the surface of his desk, and covered his face with both hands. A barely there whisper of "Dear God in heaven..." Something else, unintelligible, followed by the word "Catastrophe!" punctuated by a loud bang of his fist on top of the smooth mahogany of his desk.

 

Boggs cringed, straightening himself. It was unusual for his master to emit such reaction, something must be terribly wrong.

 

"Mister Boggs," the Earl called sitting up straight, voice commanding.

 

"Yes, my Lord,"

 

"Would you be so kind, as to have the Dowager Countess of Panemshire collected from her house, and brought here for breakfast? Then, inform my wife and daughters that they're expected to be at the dining hall at exactly 0800, and that we will be joined by the Dowager. There is important and unpleasant news to be shared with them. Ghastly business had been getting out of bed this morning... and, please, mister Boggs, make haste!"

 

* * *

 

 

"Primrose!" Hissed Lady Panemshire in exasperation, blue eyes round and scandalized, her thin lips puckered up in chastisement. "What kind of attire is that you're sporting, young lady? Miss Madge, please escort by daughter back to her chambers, so she can change into appropriate clothing for breakfast with her aunt!" Demanded the Countess in outrage.

 

"Mother, please..." started the eldest daughter in defense of her younger sister, before the young teen could utter the protest clearly etched on her fair face. "Prim's outfit is alright, she's to go riding on Lady this morning. You know this already. She's young and pretty enough, Aunt Effie will not even care if she's wearing rags! Plus, it's a quarter-to already, I think Aunt Effie would be more offended by the lack of punctuality than her choice of clothing,"

 

Primrose looked at her older sister with conflicted emotions. On the one hand, she hated being treated like a baby that couldn't stand up for herself, on the other hand, however, she felt a slight satisfaction at being called pretty. This only stroked her budding ego so much, before remembering she was also called 'Young' in the same sentence, as if her age lessened the impact of the offense she committed. Still, there was no getting out of changing her clothes, not when her mother looked to be about to lose her usually collected temper.

 

Madge, the chief maid of Twelveton, stepped closer to Primrose, awaiting for the younger girl to make her way back up to the private quarters. Prim left with a huff, right before her mother exclaimed under her breath, "Riding trousers and boots, are not acceptable apparel for breakfast with guests!"

 

"Just wear a nice skirt on top, Prim dearest. It would be a quicker fix for the problem, and you could still go out riding after!" called the elder sister to the retreating forms of Primrose and Madge down the hall.

 

"Honestly Katniss! You could be more helpful!" Stated Lady Panemshire to her eldest child, turning away from her and marching right into the dining hall, already set and awaiting for the diners to take their places at the table.

 

Katniss, eldest daughter of the Earl and Countess of Panemshire, followed her mother into the dining room; arms crossed over her chest like an insufferable brat. She stood by her spot, first chair on the left side of the head of the table. She knew she'd have to sit one seat over, since her father's aunt was to join them for the meal, and her mother would have to sit in the chair that was normally hers, while aunt Effie occupy her mother's usual position. There was a scowl already painted on the young woman's face, and the day had barely begun.

 

"Morning, dear." Lord Panemshire greeted his wife with a sweet peck to the cheek, then placed another equally quick kiss on his daughter's temple. "Katniss, you look lovely." He said offhandedly, then sweeping the large room with his gray eyes, he inquired curiously, "Where's my Little Duck?"

 

"Sent her back for a more appropriate outfit." Was his wife's simple response, "George, darling, to what do we owe the pleasure of breakfast in the presence of Aunt Effie?" Her voice was flat, but there was a small prickle of annoyance hidden behind the tone.

 

"Haymitch sent word earlier this morning, about an issue that can't be addressed remotely. I need everyone at my table so we can discuss our options. Also, I would need to spend some time with the Dowager after the meal, to study our next steps..."

 

As the man was speaking, Prim made her entrance, rushing to hug her father who greeted her with a kiss and a pat on the back, directing her to the general area she'd be occupying, next to her mother and sister, and no sooner was she reaching out for the back of her chair, than Mr. Boggs appeared at the hall's door, announcing the arrival of the Dowager.

 

Once the family matriarch had entered the room and greeted everyone in turn, the footman, a man named Alexander Cato, along with a few other servants pulled back chairs so everyone could seat to eat.

 

Food was brought up from the kitchens below, by a handful of maids who rushed around the large table, serving freshly squeezed orange juice or piping hot tea and coffee, depending on the preference. Different dishes, piled high with eggs, sausages, tomatoes and cured country hams sat on trays waiting to be served. A large spread of breakfast breads and pastries sat by a side table, with Cato at the ready to bring them to his masters, should anyone ask for them.

 

After a few moments of pleasant conversation and enjoyment of the delicious food in front of them, Aunt Effie cut to the chase.

 

Delicately wiping the corner of her mouth, with the tip of her cloth napkin, the older lady asked, "So, my dear nephew, not that I'm not enjoying this rare opportunity to see dear Lily and your beautiful daughters this early in the morning, but I understand you dragged me out of my house, from my own table, because you received some mysterious letter before the rooster called? Please be so kind as to share the contents of said letter." Effie's voice wasn't unkind, but there was a certain authority to it, that allowed for no delays.

 

The Earl of Panemshire, looked to his wife, who imperceptibly shrugged one shoulder, and seemingly gave a tiny nod of encouragement.

 

"Auntie Effie," the man looked at his aunt, a bit shakily, but after finding Effie's inquisitive honey-brown eyes, he became more determined, "I believe it best, to finish our delicious meal, before we dive into unpleasant subjects." The Earl held his aunt's gaze for a moment longer, until she nodded in acquiescence. Then everyone at the table, even the curious young ladies watching the exchange in bewilderment, returned to their plates.

 

* * *

 

 

In her youth, Eleanor Felicity Banks had been such a beautiful, enchanting young woman; smart, proper and clever handed, it was no surprise Lord Regulus Thread-Trinket, 4th Earl of Panemshire appealed for her hand in matrimony, once she was of age.

 

Lord Trinket wasn't a very nice man, let alone a good husband, preferring to share his bed with lesser companions, often of his same gender; Effie, as everyone called Eleanor Felicity since birth, realized quite rapidly and with great shock, the marriage was always intended as a sham to hide her husband's sexual escapades.

 

But after many years of hardships and a very unhappy marriage, Lord Panemshire was found dead in his undergarments, at a boarding house, under strange circumstances. Effie Trinket, Countess of Panemshire, was left childless, at the ripe age of thirty seven, without prospects for a new marriage because of her old age and less than favorable chances to conceive.

 

Her husband's lawyer, a scoundrel by the name of William Cray, informed Effie that she was only to inherit from her marriage, the title of Dowager Countess, a small house on the outer grounds of Twelveton Abbey, seat and residence of the Earl of Panemshire, and an even smaller allowance than she ever suspected. The peerage, estate, land and fortune was to pass down to his closest male relative: George Preston Everdeen, a lower rank lord of Yorkshire, who luckily, loved his Auntie Effie to the point of considering her a mother figure, after losing his own mother.

 

Now, upon taking possession of his inheritance, George, 5th Earl of Panemshire, realized the estate he was to occupy was draining money constantly, coming close to bankrupting him and putting his position in jeopardy; the first change he made, was to replace Cray, who was also a big drain in the coin purse, with his trusted friend, and long time family lawyer: Haymitch Abernathy. The man was surly, gruff and enjoyed hard liquor a bit too much, but he was sharp minded, hard working and honest.

 

Mr. Abernathy and a few trusted consultants took a long look at the finances of Twelveton Abbey, and decided the quickest solution was for George to marry a lady with a dowry large enough to be folded into that of the estate and double it, then invest and modernize the house, restructure the staffing, and finally invest in farmland around Twelveton's location, find tenants to care for the farms, so on, and so forth.

 

Effie, being savvy when it came to gathering information from her social circle, started covertly inquiring about suitable marrying age girls, that could help her nephew keep their manor running. Soon, the name Lily Johnson caught the Dowager's ear.

 

Daughter of American, new millionaire Vincent Johnson and socialite Evelyn Johnson, Lily was a sweet, affable, and vibrant young lady, with a penchant for classical music and a thirst for learning all about the workings of the world around her. Barely seventeen, both her parents were eager to entwine their names with British aristocracy, enough to overlook their daughter's young age. At first, George was uneasy with his prospective match's age, and also due to her American roots, but her dowry was more than double what Mr. Abernathy and his associates had calculated was needed to save Twelveton from debt.

 

It wasn't until the moment the young couple met for the first time, that George completely forgot the purpose of his visit to the new continent. Lily had the most beautiful smile, eyes bluer than morning glories and hair as fair and fine as gold threads. She walked with the grace of a princess and handled herself as royalty. For George, there was nothing else to question, he had made up his mind right after their first conversation when he learned of her love for music and obscure or unusual flowers, specially those with medicinal or nutritious properties. It took a bit longer for Lily to return George's honest affection, but she did wholeheartedly, once she heard him sing to the hymn she played on the piano one afternoon, his voice was that beautiful, it captured her heart instantly.

 

Secured the bride, secured the agreement between families, secured the prestige, and with love in their hearts and butterflies in their stomachs, wedding bells soon rang for the Fifth Earl of Panemshire and his American heiress. They had the loveliest time together as newlyweds, traveling the world and falling deeper in love with one another, but not everything was perfect, in their rose colored world; it took a lot of time for the new Lady Panemshire to conceive, and then to stay with child, until finally one baby survived... A little girl with her father's coloring and sharp looks, Katniss they named her, after one of Lily's favorite flowers.

 

George made it his mission to cover the house with the small white blossoms on his first daughter's first birthday, "As long as you spot your namesake in the shallows, as long as you find yourself, Katniss dear, you'll never grow hungry, my Little Flower!" Had declared George to the toddler when smushed the delicate petals of her floral counterpart in a chubby fist, and jammed it into her drooly little mouth; the Earl had learned much about plants during his marriage to Lily, and was a more avid botanist than his wife, by the time Katniss was born.

 

Although George loved his child whole-heartedly, the nagging feeling of failing his Estate and investiture, was heavy on his shoulders. He had to produce a male heir to secure his wife's money, now tied up to his title and manor, would pass down to direct family. Alas, it wasn't meant to be, when time after bitter time Lily couldn't bring to term, the coveted son George desperately needed. Another daughter was born to the Earl and Countess, Primrose, after the evening blooms George learned to appreciate in his wife's 'Herbal and Decorative Plants' book. This child took after her mother, with fairer skin, hair that resembled spun gold, and a delicate profile. Katniss, already four years old at the time of little Prim's advent, fell in love with the small pink bundle placed on her lap, once she was allowed into her mother's chamber.

 

After Primrose, there was only a long chain of failed pregnancies. Tired and heartbroken, the Earl and Countess of Panemshire, desisted on trying for more babies, after consulting with Dr. Latier, head physician for the Everdeen family. With no male children in the household, it became Mr. Abernathy's task to declare an Heir Apparent, in the absence of a direct heir.

 

* * *

 

Aunt Effie sat in the large wing chair, both hands tightly clasped on top of her lap. A grim expression had settled of her heavily made up face; at almost sixty years old, Effie believed the only way she'd looked remotely similar to her old glory days, was to relay heavily on rouge.

 

The matriarch finally spoke, choking a bit after her shock, "And, are we completely certain, they were aboard?" She chanced a glance at her nephew, who stood ram-rod straight, facing out of the large window of the sitting room.

 

"As certain as Haymitch having the ticket stubs, still in his possession." Informed George with a small hint of defeat in his voice. He turned to face his family, at the soft sound of a quiet sob.

 

Primrose, so sweet and sensitive, was slumped over her mother's lap on the couch, face buried into her two hands, as small tremors shook her shoulders and back. George looked at his eldest daughter, who sat stoically, in front of such devastating news. He could see the uncertainty, in her mercury eyes that resembled his own so perfectly.

 

"Just because Abernathy has the tickets, does not mean they got to board the damned contraption!" Snapped Effie in a uncharacteristic bout of bluster and impoliteness.

 

"No, it's confirmed. There's no doubt about it. Reginald and his whole family were aboard the Titanic, during the maiden voyage. We have witnesses that saw them, waving their goodbyes, to the people on land. There's no doubt of it."

 

A heavy sigh fell from Effie's mouth.

 

"So, what is to be done now?" Asked Katniss with a tremulous voice.

 

"For now, we wait. And we pray. We pray that our countrymen and women do not all perish in this tragedy, and we sit silently, waiting for more news while preparing to mourn our loses with the rest of England." Said Lord Panemshire solemnly. "But we should never lose hope! We have to remain optimistic in the face of these troubling times, especially you my dear," he said addressing Katniss who sat at the edge of her seat, next to her mother and sobbing sister.

 

"I'm just worried about you Papa, anything else is secondary..."

 

But then, a storm broke in the form of Primrose Everdeen, tear stricken face and puffy eyed, "Secondary?" She screeched in outrage, "Why wouldn't it? It's just the probability of your fiancé's demise we are just discussing here! Ugh! How can you be so callous? Even if you didn't love him, he was still a good man!"

 

Effie gasped, at her grand-niece's outburst, but it was Lily who chided the girl, "Primrose, that is enough!"

 

"Of course it is enough! It is me who's in the wrong as usual, because precious Katniss can never do wrong, not even when she's being completely cold!" Suddenly, Prim stood, and before any more reprimands had a chance to leave her mother's mouth, the teenager announced, "I'll be in my room, being petty and rude! Good day Aunt Effie!" And she marched out of the room, pawing at her tears harshly and petulantly.

 

"Well..." Effie spoke slowly, breaking the thick and uncomfortable silence in the sitting room after Prim's lashing. "I guess we can't all be level headed when facing devastating news. But, the girl has a point, Katniss dear. If the time comes, you need to show a bit more... sorrow, than you've demonstrated so far. It won't do, to give the gossip mills, any unnecessary fodder,"

 

Katniss sat rigidly, biting back a retort that would undoubtedly land her in hot waters with her parents. Effie continued, knowing well the girl's silence didn't mean compliance.

 

"We all understand, this union was imposed on you to preserve our family's position and your mother's wealth, but, dear child, don't allow your sister be the face of mourning, when it is your betrothed, the one that has been lost."

 

"We don't know that Reginald and Darius are lost!" Rushed George to counter.

 

"Not yet, but we have to brace ourselves for the darkest of outcomes. You, same as me, know the odds are never in this family's favor, dear boy." Said Effie solemnly. Then getting to her feet, she looked at her nephew with wizened eyes, "Now, send for someone to drive me back home, there's much that needs to be done before the day is over, I'd rather get a move on."

 

"Of course, Aunt Effie." George nodded, and signaled for Mr. Boggs to come into the room for instructions.

 

After a few minutes, of morosely sitting with her face downcast, Katniss chance a look at her family, while playing with the small frills of the seat cushion of the couch.

 

"It isn't that I didn't like Darius," she sighed, "He was sweet and funny. I just... I'll do what's best for the family," she stated with finality, assuming a stoic position once more.

 

  
"We won't ever ask for more, darling," her mother said softly, patting her hand.

 

A couple of days passed, before the official death toll was announced after the sinking of the RMS Titanic. More than 1500 souls were lost in the disaster, including Lord Reginald Everdeen, Heir apparent to George Everdeen and his son Darius, second in line to claim Twelveton and the title of Earl of Panemshire, who had been promised Lady Katniss's hand in marriage, on the spring of Katniss' twentieth birhtday.

 

The problem with patriarchal society, like the English aristocracy lived at the time, was that only males inherited anything valuable, and George having produced no sons of his own, was in the same predicament his aunt had been all those years prior. Lucky for him, he had one second cousin, who had grown up with him while children, his best friend, Reginald.

 

Once it was decided that George would not pressure his wife into pursuing another child, in the hopes of it being a son, Haymitch Abernathy as family lawyer, drew an official statement declaring Reginald Woodruff Everdeen, Heir Apparent to George.

 

Unlike his cousin, Reginald had produced a son in his youth, a jovial young man named Darius, a ginger, as he called himself in a deprecating fashion, with big, green mischievous eyes, and a face full of freckles, it seemed as time never touched his features, for he always looked the same, no matter how old he gotten.

 

Only five years Katniss' senior, the families reached the accord to have the children marry each other on Katniss's twentieth birthday, on 8th May of 1913.

 

Now, Reginald and his wife Margaret, were the biggest of snobs, thinking highly of themselves as Lord and Lady Everdeen, heirs to Earl of Panemshire. They lived their lives ostentatiously and completely vicariously through their future fortune. They always had the most expensive taste in housing, travels, food, even servants, although they truly didn't have the means to support all that. When Margaret heard of the RMS Titanic's maiden voyage, and how only the elite were going to sail upon it, she was quick to pester her husband until he secured passes for the trip; New York was an exciting destination for a wide eyed young man, so Darius was included in the venture as well as his two younger sisters.

 

A fools errand, as the sinking proved to be. The whole family was lost in the tragedy, leaving George once more heirless, and Katniss freed of her marital arrangements.

 

The race for both, an Heir Apparent, and suitable match for Lady Katniss was on.

 

 

* * *

  

 

**Twelveton Abbey, June, 1912**

 

"So, only two more men left alive on the Trinket lineage?" Groused George sitting on his desk chair, worry lines marked his face. "This is troubling, Haymitch, troubling and worrisome," the Earl rubbed his forehead with the top of fingers, willing away the imminent headache forming on his temple.

 

"Indeed," answered the lawman swirling the amber liquid in his tumbler before taking a generous pull. "Specially if you take into account, how neither man is even married," the man chuckled mirthlessly at his observation.

 

  
"We are in a pickle Haymitch, and I don't like it!" Said the Earl squaring his old friend with a tired stare. "We need to hurry this Heir business along. I'm being swamped here with inquiries from London about it, not to mention the insane amount of correspondence regarding Katniss' sudden availability for marriage. You wouldn't believe, the number of would-be suitors, that have tried calling on her already!"

 

"Actually friend, I do, since I had to write that lovely note to the papers, officially announcing that sweet little Kat-kin is on her mourning period until October," Haymitch sighed, "It's a wonder I tell you. Have any of these... Suitors, ever even met her in person? If I didn't know better myself, I would say she's my own child, with how sullen and standoffish she can get. Why I told her the other day, she had the charm of a dead slug!"

 

"Which earned you a well placed punch in gut, if I'm not mistaken!" This time when George laughed, it was full and real, causing Haymitch to scowl at his friend, making George laugh even deeper. "Serves you right! Why would you ever tell such a thing to a lady?"

 

Haymitch grunted, "The girl can be more of a savage sometimes. How you and that lovely wife of yours, ever produced such a mean spirited Sprite, I'll never figure out."

 

Regardless of Haymitch's constant ribbing and antagonistic commentary to and about Katniss, everyone was aware this was his way of showing fondness. Haymitch Abernathy was an awkward soul, not truly equipped to deal with young girls, specially ones that remind him of himself, and Katniss did that, even more than if she had been his own flesh and blood. Why, it had been his idea to publicly declare Katniss in a six month mourning period, to fend off the slew of prospective matches that have come seeking an audience with the Earl, to put their names into the hat.

 

But Haymitch wasn't completely wrong in his assessment of the lady. Katniss could be quite arrogant and haughty if occasion called for it. She had learned from the best, her grand aunt Effie. Then, there was the matter that the girl hadn't found the joys of infatuation herself, she didn't have one boy-crazed bone in her body, in contrast to her sister Primrose, who still sobbed the loss of her deceased brother-in-Law to be.

 

Haymitch knew without a doubt, that Katniss would marry any man her family thought deserving, even if she didn't like, or even tolerate the man herself; that was the level of commitment she felt for her father and his legacy. She would be willing to play her role of docile, obedient lamb, if it meant her family was alright. Haymitch hated it, but it wasn't his place to interfere in the Earl's family affairs, no matter how much he felt for the girls as if they were his own kin.

 

"At least Kat-kin will have time to sort out her options," George interrupted Haymitch's musings, "thanks to that stunt of yours with the papers, my Little Flower can finally see things for herself, and find a man she won't mind spending her life with, instead of me forcing her into a marriage of convenience,"

 

"So, you will allow her to chose, this time around?" Asked Haymitch arching his brows.

 

"Within reason, yes. Katniss can be a hands on participant in the choosing of her future husband. Would you support this notion?" The Earl asked, equally arching his eyebrows. "She would still have to choose from a pool of approved suitors, and this pool will be subject to change..."

 

"Pardon me my lord, but who will determine the suitable contenders?" Interrupted Haymitch.

 

George smiled easily, "Why, me, Effie and if you play your cards right... Even you my friend! Now, let's go back to the more pressing choice: my Heir... What do we know about these men?"

 

Haymitch took a moment to absorb the information his friend had just given him. Then dove right into business. He sat straight in his chair, and leaned forward, pointing at a stack of documents gathered on the Earl's desk.

 

"Well, the undisputed next in line would be a young man, son of your second cousin once removed, on the Trinket female line, and before you ask, the male line has been exhausted. There aren't any more male descendants on any branch."

 

"Very well, tell me about the undisputed next in line then. Age, occupation, why hasn't he married yet? unless he's still a child himself, and if so, where is his father?" The Earl was talking in his official voice, creased forehead and rustling through the documents his lawyer presented him with.

 

"The man is twenty years old, his next birthday is October 3rd, he's a third generation baker by trade, lives in London's merchant district, he survives his father and two older brothers, lives with his mother, forty six year old Winifred nee Thread, and he's never been married, but he might be courting one of his neighbors' daughters, a young girl by the surname of Cartwright, her father runs the cobbler's shoppe,"

 

George sat back in his chair pensively. Pressing his lips together, he looked at his friend and advisor, "Is he serious about this Cartwright girl, do you know?" Haymitch shook his head, because he didn't know for certain, "Well, we need to find out how serious his commitment to the shoe maker's daughter is; he might be reaped, to enter into the arena to win my daughter for a wife,"

 

"George..." Haymitch growled a warning, "You just promised no more arranged marriages for her," but his words were more defeated than he would have wanted them. Haymitch knew better than anyone, the Everdeens will try and keep Lily's dowry in the family by any possible means, and Katniss' short lived possibility of freedom, was snuffed out right before it was given a chance to flourish.

 

* * *

   

**Mellark's Bakery, London, mid July, 1912**

 

The bell of the front door chimed announcing the arrival of a patron. Winifred Mellark, better known as the 'Witch' by children around the neighborhood, lifted her face to the newcomer with a biting remark of greeting ready on her lips. No sooner her eyes fell on the man with the tailored dark suit and handsome tall hat, she forgot whatever insult she was about to throw at the unfortunate soul, who dared come into her family store, when there was a clearly display sign saying they were already closed for the day.

 

"Evening ma'am, may I speak to man of the house?" The gentleman greeted her with a tip of his hat, and forced smile, that didn't seem to belong on his face.

 

"Well, I'm the woman of the house, if that will be sufficient for acquiring our wares... by the way, we're freshly out of bread, thus the closed sign on the window!" And there it was, Winifred in all her glory.

 

The man didn't seemed to care about her rude behavior, but he did seem troubled for a moment.

 

"No ma'am, I'm not here for the bread, although I hear your wedding cakes are the best in all of London. It would be such a pity, when you can't produce them anymore."

 

Winifred narrowed her almost colorless blue eyes, she would make a comely woman if her face wouldn't twist in such sneers and bad spirited responses. Accusingly she snapped, "And why ever in hell, won't we be producing cakes, if you don't mind my asking? Would you be one of those creditors, my stupid late husband forgot to tell us about?"

 

"Er... Well, no. Not really..."

 

"I'll have you know, my son might not be much, but he's clever enough with coin, he will pay up any debt and keep our doors open! This business won't fail because his father was incompetent in his finances!"

 

"Ma'am, I do believe it's better if I spoke to your son..."

 

"Why? I'm here am I not? You can speak to me!"

 

"Really, this is a matter that needs to be discussed with your son..."

 

"The hell with you! Just tell me what you came here to say and be gone!"

 

"MOTHER!"

 

A young man, probably in his early twenties, stood filling the whole door frame to the back room of the bakery. He had an impressive presence about him, with his broad shoulders and stocky frame. He wasn't taller than average, but he demanded attention while in the room. His eyes were a warm shade of blue, in comparison to his mother's cold ones, and the look of disgust on his face, told the visitor, the boy didn't share his abrasive mother's comportment.

 

The man in the rich finery took a measured, sigh of relief as he watched the young man approach the counter, still glaring at his mother for her poor behavior. When he was finally in front of the newcomer, he looked up, a small apology swimming in his eyes, as he tried to politely welcome the man.

 

"Good evening sir, I regret to inform you, I just sold my last piece of baking for the day, but if I can be of service in any other way, please let me know."

 

The man gave a small sideways smile, the first honest gesture since entering the store. Sticking his hand forward, towards the young baker, and all but ignoring the shrew of the woman he had referred to as mother, the man said enthusiastically "The name is Abernathy. Haymitch Abernathy, and although I'm not interested in buying any baked goods just now, I can surely hope the two of us would enter into a mutually beneficial business endeavor! Will you lend me some of your time master Mellark? I have news that will change your life forever!"

 

* * *

 

**Twelveton Abbey, August, 1912.**

 

"Ugh... Why are we even entertaining these people? It's not like Katniss is taking any suitors at the moment," groused Prim, smoothing her pink dinner gown down her thighs and legs.

 

"Now, now, Primrose, you know this is supposed to be a diplomatic affair. Sir Brutus is introducing his Ottoman attaché friend, Mr Marvel to all his closets friends, while in England." Explained Lily to her daughter with utmost patience.

 

"Yes, keyword: Supposed! We all know, Sir Brutus is using this dinner as an excuse to come see Katniss, and show how great of a prospective husband he is... It makes me sick! My sister shouldn't have to be displayed to all these rich man, like she's a fine cut of meat to be made into a meal!" Prim said annoyed, shoving her hands roughly into her gauzy dinner gloves. "Is not fair! No woman should be treated that way, like they're property instead of, feeling, thinking, breathing human beings!"

 

Lily sighed deeply, putting the finishing touches to Prim's fair hair, before saying breathily, "I know darling, it's unfair, but that's life..."

 

"What do you know, mother? Why you, yourself were forced into your marriage!" Snapped Prim under her breath, she really didn't mean for the thought to escape her mouth, but it did. She shot her mother a half apologetic look through her looking glass, before lowering her gaze to her hands on her lap.

 

Lily sighed again, and with small effort turned Prim around on her small stool, to face her instead of the mirror.

 

"Prim, dear. It is true your father and I were arranged to wed out of convenience. Both our families had big expectations for our union. But, we were lucky enough, that we fell honestly and deeply in love with one another, it certainly made things real, and so much better for us. I can only hope your sister would run with the same kind of luck I did... And I know that when you come to marrying age, I will hope and pray for the same. In fact I've already started,"

 

"Mama... You won't have to worry about me. I'm never falling in love with anyone, and I'm never marrying without love!" Prim's words were punctuated with fat tears prickling her eyes.

 

"Oh Primy, you're still so young, and I know how much you cared and admired Darius, but believe me, there will be more young lads to set your little heart running!"

 

  
"I doubt that, but thanks for believing anyway." Prim leaned into her mother for a quick hug, before dabbing at her eyes, to clear up the tears.

 

\----------------------

 

Sir Brutus Gunn, was a middle aged, balding bachelor, who sometimes served as ambassador in his uncle Lord Coriolanus Snow, Duke of Capitolham's, stead.

 

He was intimidating to look at, resembling a hulking chunk of man, instead of a high society lower lord, but, he was charming, polite and very well spoken. He was also quite clever, and although his line of work as his uncle's lackey had interfered in the past in his securing a bride, he wasn't completely awful to look at. Or so aunt Effie kept telling the Everdeen ladies.

 

"Oh! My lady Katniss! What an immense pleasure to see you! Please allow me to kiss your most delicate hand," Sir Brutus didn't wait for a response, before hurrying to pull poor Katniss' hand to his lips, in a sickeningly sloppy kiss.

 

Katniss only gave him a confused and startled look, before peering at her father for an answer. It wasn't entirely Katniss fault, she had just stepped into the jolly dining hall when Sir Brutus practically steamrolled her over with his decidedly too friendly demeanor. She stepped back a pace, and her startled gray eyes flashed back between her father and the dinner guest. The Earl finally gave a slight nod, that she took as his reluctant permission to accept such attention.

 

"Um... Thank you Sir Brutus, for such affectionate greeting," she muttered as she passed him by.

 

  
"Of course my lady! But please, allow me to introduce you to my beloved friend, Jack Marvel, Ottoman attaché and a most talented singer and lute player!" Sir Brutus gushed of his companion.

 

"Please my lord, you humble me with your high praises. Please, my lady, do not take Sir Brutus' words seriously, I'd die of shame if I didn't measure up to a beautiful lady's expectations!" Politely replied Mr. Marvel from behind Brutus' hulking figure.

 

When Brutus stepped aside, to allow Mr. Marvel to take Katniss' hand in turn, and most gallantly brush his lips to her skin, she was rendered speechless. Marvel was everything Brutus was not! Subtle, graceful, suave and incredibly handsome. It was the Earl's intervention that put a stop to Katniss' unblinking staring at the man before her.

 

"I believe my daughter, just as the rest of us, would love to hear master Marvel's voice after dinner. Sir Brutus is not the first to boast about it, and to be honest I'm most curious myself, why I try to dabble in singing as you all know," the Earl chuckled, and so did the other men.

 

"Of course," said Katniss finally regaining her speech and daintily extracting her hand from Mr. Marvel's.

 

The man smiled at her winningly, before turning to face her father, "Then it is done, my lord. I will sing for you!"

 

"Splendid!"

 

Just then, Lily and Primrose entered the hall, closely followed by an exasperated Effie, who simply wouldn't hide her annoyance at the presence of the guests.

 

"Ladies, welcome! Let us all officially make the acquaintance of our guests, so we can eat!" Lord Panemshire said jovially, signaling to Mr. Boggs to prepare to serve supper.

 

\---------------------

 

After dinner was finished, everyone migrated to the sitting room for a 'night cap' as Lord Panemshire called it.

 

The whole time, the Dowager Countess kept sending dirty glares in the direction of Mr. Marvel, without actually explaining to anyone what her problem with the young man was, until the singing portion started, with George and Marvel having a friendly competition.

 

By the third song, Lily approached the matriarch who looked as disgruntled as ever.

 

"Would my lady like me to call a driver to take you home? You don't seem to be enjoying the evening as much as the rest of us, Aunt Effie," Lily's clear blue eyes only briefly separated from her beloved husband's smiley face, to search Effie's frowning one.

 

"I will not leave, my dear. That would be terribly bad manners, but I can tell you, that I wouldn't take my eyes away from that Marvel character!" Effie exclaimed under her breath.

 

Lily frowned as well, and spared the older lady a sideways glance, before asking discreetly for her to elaborate. Effie didn't need asking twice before she was spilling her grievances against the young man.

 

"I have of good, reliable source, that that Marvel person is a scoundrel of the worst type! He preys on good, innocent, gullible girls, and has his way with them, later discarding them as if they are mere trophies to be collected. I should not want him close to my girls, but since I'm a decent human being, I won't drag through the mud any reputable lady's name, to make my accusation, so I'm being forced to hold my peace out of decorum,"

 

Lily chanced another glance at Effie, and noticed the woman was completely serious and worry seeped from her tense body, as they sat for the impromptu concert.

 

Lily reached for Effie's gloved hand in an uncharacteristic display of affection and solidarity, she gave a squeeze still looking forward at her husband, who was now singing some ballad about a meadow, and old Effie turned her face sharply to look at her nephew's wife.

 

The older woman was taken aback by the surprise contact. In Effie's life, it wasn't a normal occurrence to be touched by any person other than her lady's maid, who had assisted her to bathe, dress and do her hair for the past thirty years. Other than the occasional hand shake, or small greeting pats and air kisses from her oldest friends, Effie wasn't a common recipient of caring touches from others. At least, not since her mother passed on, so Lily's small gesture, made to comfort her was a bit of a shock at first, but it filled her old heart with so much warmth, she instantly felt an overwhelming rush of affection for niece-in-law.

 

For the first time since she came to live in Twelveton, Effie didn't look at Lily like a foreigner with strange customs. She wasn't the American woman with barely passable manners for a woman of her station. For the first time, Lily was family! The daughter Effie was never given the chance to have, and somehow everything was made even better, once Lily whispered to her, a final reassurance.

 

  
"I promise I will keep my eyes alert, dear Effie. I know your worries come from a place of fondness, only wishing the best for my children. I will be attentive to any misgivings and I will also have a word with the girls, and the service maids. Thank you for your concern." Lily gave another squeeze to Effie's hand, and all too soon, let it go.

 

Both women spent the rest of the evening watching the rest of their companions sing, talk and laugh, and then it was Lily's turn to frown in consternation, for her eldest, seemed to not stop looking at the Ottoman attaché, even forgetting to scowl as she usually did.

 

 

* * *

 

**Twelveton Abbey, Three days into Sir Brutus and Mr. Marvel's visit.**

 

Normally, Alexander Cato wasn't a bad tempered person. In fact, he did his best work under pressure and always with a charming smile, but that was only because he was terribly accomplished at pretending. Cato had a personality bordering on conman territory, always scheming his next big move. It was a mystery to most, why on earth had he chosen a life in service if he always aspired for grandeur and recognition; the truth was, he cared more about quick, easy riches than prestige, and he could only get those working under the richest people he could find.

 

Thus, why he found himself working as first footman at Twelveton Abbey. Which honestly, had him fixated for a few more reasons than merely a quick pence in his pocket. His stepfather had been a footman at Twelveton himself, and he idolized his stepfather more than anything, it didn't matter that the man was anything but a good role model, that got himself killed in a pub fight after it was discovered he had ripped off an acquaintance, in a bet. Cato had learned most of his tricks from his stepdad, but the charming smile that opened doors for him easily, he got from his mum, a sweet thing with rubbish taste in man, and was lost to Cato by the flu, right before his seventeenth birthday.

 

  
Cato's mother had briefly worked at Twelveton as a scullery maid, were she met Cato's stepfather, and subsequently married him.

 

In his mind, Cato idealized Twelveton as this pinnacle of all greatness. In his mind, working there as The Butler, was the dream to be achieved, and he worked as hard as he needed, to make his master's see him in good light. Still, Cato felt robbed of his rightful place, scaling the ladder of success, when the position of Valet to the Earl of Panemshire became available, but was given to a Mr. Hawthorne instead.

 

A newcomer in Twelveton, Mr. Hawthorne was a decorated military inventor, who after seeing the horrors his creations could inflict in other human beings, decided to take a leave of absence and work in a place as different as his previous employment as possible. Lord Panemshire having fought in a war alongside Mr. Hawthorne's father, and knowing the younger man was the one responsible for supporting his family, now that his old man had passed away, offered him the job as his personal valet.

 

Gale Hawthorne was younger than most would expect of a man in his position, both in the military and in domestic service, but he was reliable and hard working, always ready to go the extra mile to get his job done, and done right. George Everdeen never regretted bringing the young man to work for him, but Alexander Cato never ceased to plot how to bring about Hawthorne's dismissal.

 

Cato found a golden opportunity on the third day of Sir Brutus and his companion's visit.

 

Everyone had overheard Mr. Marvel boast about the priceless letter opener given to him by his great-grandfather when he was appointed as an attaché for the Ottoman Empire. It was solid gold and encrusted with precious gems 'the like never seen before in these parts'. Marvel had spoken at length, about how he always carried the token with him everywhere he went, as both a talisman of good luck and reminder of home. The Lady Katniss had been enthralled by his every word, watching the man with baleful eyes full of wonder and curiosity.

 

  
Cato thought, by the way Marvel smiled at the lady boyishly, with a hint of mischievousness and a spark in his dark brown eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing... After all it only took a scoundrel to know a scoundrel. However Cato wasn't the empathic kind, he was the selfish kind that only sought personal gain, so the day that silly Lady Katniss agreed to take her father's guest out horse riding around Twelveton, the conniving footman snuck into the Ottoman diplomat's suite with a plan to steal the valuable artifact, incriminate Mr. Hawthorne and get him removed from Twelveton. He didn't care much if this led to Hawthorne's imprisonment as long as he was out of his way to the next step towards his goal.

 

Cato only had a small window of opportunity to look around for the coveted letter opener, and was focused on leaving things as he had found them. He forgot he was supposed to keep and ear out for any incoming chamber maids, tasked with tidying up the rooms, but to his horror, he wasn't found by a maid he could easily threaten to keep quiet. No, his carelessness was going to cost him dearly.

 

"So, if you tell me exactly what is it you seek, I might tell you where I've put it," said Marvel himself slyly, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and sideways cocky smile on his face.

 

Cato scrunched up his face in anger. There was nothing he hated more than being bested at his own game, but at the moment he knew he was completely at the mercy of the man who watched him with unabashed amusement.

 

"I wasn't..."

 

"No, no..." Interrupted Marvel lifting a hand, broadening his grin, "let me help, it's definitely more entertaining if I give you options. I must say, I do not doubt you've concocted some compelling sob story, as to why you've found yourself in a position of thievery, but... I'm not truly interested in that,"

 

  
"Then pray tell me, my good sir, what is it you're interested in and I will see to it that we reach a mutually beneficial accord," Said Cato through clenched teeth.

 

"Indeed!" Exclaimed Marvel straightening up, and giving a light clap with giddy hands. "I knew you'd be agreeable!"

 

"You still haven't disclosed your terms, sir. How can we've reached an agreement without knowing what the conditions are?" Countered Cato, showing a bit of his more contemptuous side.

 

Marvel laughed, "I like you! I think you and I... We could have made fast friends in another life... At the very least we would have been allies."

 

"If the notion satisfies you sir." Responded Cato sizing the man up, he briefly wondered what was he doing there, when he was supposed to be riding out in the fields with that doltish Lady Katniss and her hunkering new pursuer, Sir Brutus. "I do not think us very much alike personally, but what I think hardly matters at any rate."

 

"Truer words have never been spoken, yet I have to partially disagree. We are more alike than you think, mister Cato. Ah! You're surprised I know your name," said Marvel with a pleased grin, as he watched Cato twitch with discomfort, suspicion and yes, surprise. "You see, I'm very interested in Lady Katniss. She... How should I put this... Intrigues me!" He smiled like the cat who drank the cream.

 

"I've been watching you, in particular, because as anyone can clearly see, that old bat, your Dowager Countess, has been onto me since the first day I laid eyes on your masters' exquisite daughter... I've been looking for an inside man ever since.

 

  
"Between my seriously daft friend Brutus, and the meddling Countess and the Dowager, I've never gotten to have the pretty filly to myself, which is a tremendous pity, if I'm completely honest. It's almost like she wears her chastity belt on the outside... Stupid if you ask me..."

 

Marvel had many other things to say, but even Cato was finding the conversation rather nauseating, so he stopped the man before he could continued.

 

"What, exactly, do you wish of me?" Asked Cato slowly, but firmly.

 

"Oh, not much. Only that tonight you direct me to the lady's chamber!" His smile was blinding as he spoke.

 

"And if I refuse?" Countered Cato almost immediately.

 

"Then, I'll have no other choice than to start screaming thievery right this second." The smile disappeared and was replaced by an expression of mock consternation, "And I have to warn you my friend, I'm quite the convincing actor," the threat wasn't even veiled. "I can start right now... Brutus and dear, lovely Katniss await my return in the parlor, the halls and corridors are crawling with servants and your master is just a few floors below... Your move mister Cato." The smile finally returned to the man's face, but it made Cato's insides burn with hatred, instead of the fear he had felt when he was found.

 

"What do I get in return?" He asked trying to salvage the deal for himself.

 

"Well, isn't it obvious? Why you get to keep yourself employed!" Marvel smirked pleasantly, "And don't even think about ratting me out, it would be your word against my own, and who do you think the Lord will believe?"

 

And like that, the foulest of deals, was struck.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A loud banging on the countess' bedroom door woke her. Lily glanced at her small carriage clock sitting on her side table and found the big hand somewhere between 9 and 10, small hand too small to properly inform it's mistress if it was hovering above 2 or just before it. She wasn't at all surprised her husband hadn't stirred with the ruckus at the door; he had always been a sound sleeper, whereas Lily was the opposite.

 

But fearing something terrible, because no one would dare disturb the Earl and Countess of Panemshire at such scandalous time if it wasn't a serious matter, she rushed out of bed and into her dressing gown. Taking quick, silent steps to the door, she cracked it open to find a distraught Katniss at the other side.

 

Lily took in her child's disheveled appearance and all kinds of alarm bells started to go off simultaneously.

 

Katniss wrung her hands and bit her lips together, trying to hold back tears. The poor girl looked tormented and scared.

 

"What's wrong Katniss?" Lily asked stepping out of her bedroom quickly, closing the door behind her.

 

"Mummy, I'm not sure what's happened, but..." The girl started to hyperventilate as soon as words started falling from her decidedly paler than normal lips.

 

"Calm down, sweetheart," rasped Lily at the verge of a panic attack, she couldn't remember the last time either of her girls had addressed her as 'Mummy', considering the term of endearment too childish for ladies of their social stature.

 

There was something stifling, about English aristocracy, that robbed children of their innocent belief that mothers are somehow mythical, magical beings, that could cure any ailments with a soft kiss and pat on their heads, and was instead replaced with a sense of pride and self reliance that made their mothers seem more... human.

 

Lily crushed her daughter to her chest, completely forgetting any sense of moderation; Lily was a mother bear, and something had spooked her cub so awfully that she was sobbing and cowering at her chest.

 

"Shhh, shhh, baby girl, big breaths. That's it, easy now..." It was moments like those ones, when Lily's dormant American accent would color her voice, and felt somehow more genuine to the comfort she was trying to provide, it was the moment her daughters knew they were in her mother's arms, and they were simple girls, that they could allow themselves weakness and wouldn't be judged by anyone, because that moment was completely private to them and their mother.

 

Katniss' breath finally evened out, and her body stopped trembling into the warmth of her mother. Lily's hands kept rubbing soothing circles on her child's back, while the other one smoothed the strands of loose hair back, from the girl's sweaty, splotchy face.

 

"Alright dear, now, tell me what's wrong," Lily demanded with a gentle voice, whilst still forcing her daughter look her in the eyes.

 

  
The torment that filled the gray eyes she searched, broke her heart, but the countess knew there was no getting around it. Whatever this was, it had to be dealt with before dawn arrived and she was presently unaware of the current time, so she pressed her child again.

 

"Katniss, whatever it is, you came for help, but I can't help you unless you tell me what's happened,"

 

Katniss nodded, she knew as well, the time had come, and she had to come clean and deal with whatever consequences would befall her.

 

\----------------------

 

Lily stood so closed to Katniss' bed, the billowy layers of her nightgown kept brushing the mattress.

 

Lips pursed and forehead creased, an expression of utter disgust on her face, the Countess hovered over the lifeless body of Mr. Marvel, sprawled on his stomach, as naked as the day he was born, on her daughter's bed. Her toe disdainfully nudged the man's one arm that hung limply over the edge of the bed.

 

"Tell me again, how this happened," ordered Lily turning to her child, who sat meekly a few feet away, trying to hold in sobs just barely.

 

"Um, he knocked on the door, and I opened it since I had asked Mrs. Sae for a cup of warm milk. She told me she'd send it up with one of the girls, so I didn't think any of it when the knock came..." Katniss' voice quivered and for the hundredth time, she wrung her hands desperately on her lap. She hid the few tears that fell from her eyes with a downcast face.

 

"But it wasn't any of the kitchen maids, you found behind the door." Lily turned to look back at the dead man lying in front of her, while Katniss duly shook her head.

 

"No. It was mister Marvel that had the milk. In fact, he was carrying that tray over there," she pointed a finger to a tray on a side table not far from the bed. "Then he mixed something into my cup, he said it was something called sleep syrup, that it would help me relax and help me go to sleep, even better than warm milk alone... I should not have consumed the concoction... I am so stupid!" Hot tears of anger and regret fell down Katniss' face and she stabbed at them harshly, regaining that fierceness that characterized her.

 

"My darling, I'm not going to coddle you and pretend that you did nothing wrong. There where several things you allowed to happen that were improper, for example letting a strange man into your room whilst you were already dressed for bed, but I have to also recognize that this type of unscrupulous men, would stop at nothing to get what they seek. I'm just so angry, that the coward was given an easy exit, out of this appalling mess!" Exclaimed Lily stomping her foot in aggravation.

 

Katniss looked at her mother incredulously, "Whatever do you mean, mother? Easy exit? The man is dead! In my bed! There's nothing easy about this!" Retorted Katniss standing from her straight back chair and stomping closer to her mother, but once she glanced at the corpse on her bed, she shrank back immediately, all her bravado draining out of her along with the color of her face.

 

"He had an easy exit! He should have been brought before the authorities, convicted, sent to rot in prison... Or better yet - hanged! To do such vile acts to a innocent, unsuspecting girl... It's... It's deplorable, criminal..."

 

"Mother! Stop at once! You cannot say that!" Katniss flew to cover her mother's mouth with her hand, her eyes wide in panic as she spoke rapidly, "No one can know about this! No one! My reputation, and that of Father would be ruined if this leaves my room. You have to swear you'll never speak of this with anyone!"

 

"Katniss!" Hissed her mother, wrenching her hand away from her mouth, "You came to, to find this... brute, this monster's lifeless body on top of yours, and although you don't remember anything, and you don’t seem to have any pains or bleeding in your private areas, doesn't mean he didn't disgraced you already! I believe some reparation is owed, to you, to your father... To the man that would become your husband one day..."

 

"No!" Katniss growled like a wounded, feral animal. "No reparations! No telling father, no making this a public affair... and... absolutely not marrying... at least... Not the type of man father was hoping. I would die of guilt, if father is left embarrassed and falls out of favor with his peers." Although her voice shook a little, Katniss' eyes were determined and her mother knew her daughter would not back down.

 

Lily tried once more, taking a few steps closer to Katniss. She brought a warm hand to her child's trembling face, and cupped her tear stained cheek. In her softest voice she asked, "Are you sure, Katniss? Will you keep this a secret from your father?"

 

"It is what has to be done." The younger lady responded firmly, "It would kill father knowing this. And I know it's hard for you to understand the need to save our place in society, Mother because you're American and there's no royalty there, but here, it matters. To me, it matters. Father's good name must be preserved at any cost." Her stoic temperance was back full force. She stood straight and with her chin high.

 

Lily could only pray, neither of them would regret keeping silent, but she had to admire her child's determination to hold the heavy burden of her family's wellbeing on her thin, delicate shoulders.

 

  
"Very well, if you've decided. Then quickly fetch Clove and bring her here. We need to move mister Marvel back to his own bedroom and we will need help. Discreet help. Loyal help."

 

Katniss didn't delay, rushing downstairs and into the servants quarters; she had only been down in the maid's rooms a handful of times, she was more familiar with the kitchens and pantry and even the small edible garden outside the kitchens, but she never had reason to be at the help's bedrooms. So, instead of knocking at Clove's door, her mother's trusted Lady's maid of several years, Katniss' knuckles rapped on Madge's, the Head House Maid. It was as well, Katniss had always liked Madge for her quiet and serious demeanor, and since the maid was only a couple of years older than the lady, and both had grown up in Twelveton, they had the chance to play together as young girls, for reasons Katniss couldn't readily recall.

 

Madge's eyes widened in surprise at seeing the Lady Katniss standing only in her thick nightgown, outside her bedroom door. The maid quickly opened the door wider and pulled the lady inside, rushing to grab a discarded robe to throw over her lady's shoulders. Katniss was a bit awestruck by the gesture.

 

It all came crashing back to Katniss. The reason she remembered playing dollies with Madge Undersee, was because her father had been some kind of official at Town Hall at some point. Katniss remembered the scandal, of Mr. Undersee, when he was found stealing morphing from the town's small hospital-like auspice, to relieve his wife's painful headaches. The man was stripped of everything and left to his misfortune, a rapidly deteriorating wife and sweet daughter who had to enter service of a big house, as a means to support herself and her father. Katniss felt full of shame, but she managed to squeak a weak, "Thank you," at the maid, for her kind, caring gesture.

 

"How can I help you, my lady?" Madge asked with concern in her pretty features.

 

Katniss felt a pang of shame burn her insides again. This woman should be her equal, not her servant. Still, she remembered the even worse shameful mess upstairs, and already knowing she could trust an old friend, she spoke without hesitation.  


 

"I need help... And, also, I need you to keep a secret,"

 

Madge nodded. It was done.

 

* * *

 

**Twelveton Abbey, the day after.**

 

Clove Fuhrman, stood at the window watching the last car pull out of the gravel road, leading to Twelveton Abbey.

 

Master Jack Marvel's stiff corpse was found by a chamber maid doing her rounds that morning. It gave the poor girl such a terrible fright that she screamed, alerting the whole house of the troubling findings. It wasn't long before a slew of policemen descended on the house, shortly followed by the Earl's advisors and a liaison diplomat straight from His Majesty's court.

 

It was a humongous to-do, with the Ottoman attaché kicking it in the middle of the night like that, but Clove only arched an eyebrow, disinterested, when the rest of the staff gathered in the kitchen to gossip about it.

 

"You would do well to pretend to be a bit more shocked... Or even curious, if you truly cannot be bothered... people could suspect!" Whispered a deep, male voice right into Clove's ear. She made a tiny startled jump, but her surprise was quickly replaced by a knowing smirk.

 

"Suspect what? I never ever spoke to the man. And honestly, I only saw him once to tell you the truth," she replied, pushing her bottom into the man's hips. She smiled fully, when he gasped at the contact, and his big hands grasped her hips possessively.

 

"Really? I thought you said he was a looker? Were you lying to make me jealous?" The man asked licking the shell of her ear seductively.

 

"Maybe. I thought it would be entertaining. As I said, only saw him once, and wasn't that impressed." The woman rolled her eyes upon meeting her lover's face. "And you are just lucky no one saw anything either. You were very sloppy, going into his cambers on your own, you should have waited for me," there was reproach in her voice, but she kept smiling at him.

 

"Clove... I would never jeopardize both our positions. Hell, I know it was stupid and impulsive of me, but... It all worked out in the end." He gave the woman a soft kiss on the lips, before separating from her.

 

"Whatever you say, Xandy. By the way, what did you give him? Whatever he spiked her nightcap with wasn't very strong, which I guess is a good thing. I just... I just hope, he didn't get to go too far with her... She's a good girl. Naive and trusting, but good all the same,"

 

Cato fixed Clove with a cold stare, he often regarded her small flashes of empathy as weakness, but he craved her like he had never craved another woman, so he never really complained about it and she certainly had a very soft spot for the Everdeen girls, Cato just couldn't understand.

 

  
"I gave the insufferable arse a watered down dose of sleep syrup for her," Cato stood right next to Clove, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window. He whispered under his breath the next part, "But, I managed to spike his nauseatingly sweep schnapps, with a drop of fresh nightlock berry juice."

 

If Clove thought anything of Cato's actions, she did not show it, only looking out the window impassively.

 

Cato continued, "Untraceable. I did insist he told the girl what was he mixing into her drink... Since it's a very old recipe, mostly brewed by people from mister Hawthorne's small, backwards town!" Cato smiled devilishly, a ruthless gleam in his pale blue eyes, "It won't hurt if someone makes an innocent connection, would it now?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Twelveton Abbey, early September, 1912**

 

To Cato's dismay, no condemning association had been made between Mr. Hawthorne and the sleep syrup Lady Katniss had been dosed with. In fact, nothing had been said about Katniss' scandalous encounter, though could hardly blame the girl for trying to save her good name. He hated the man not just for threatening his position at Twelveton, but for insinuating himself on his young mistress, however little allegiance and devotion he felt toward the girl he normally considered silly; Katniss Everdeen was still part of what made Twelveton grand in his eyes. He wouldn't regret poisoning the pompous bastard at all, if it wasn't because of the fact that Hawthorne was still occupying the station he coveted, and gaining trust and fondness from the master himself, every passing day.

 

At the moment, Cato sat at the kitchen prep table, arranging the set for the tea service on a silver tray, plotting his next move to have Hawthorne sacked and him being at the ready to take his place at the right moment. He thought, today would be an splendid day to bring about that odious man's destruction, as they expected a full house for supper.

 

The prospect of finally achieving his victory over the valet, had him in a cheery mood, whistling his way to the master's study as he carried his afternoon tea and biscuits, he almost forgot to knock on the door before sauntering in without a care in the world. He was particularly relieved, he remembered himself as he pulled up short of smashing his face on the office door, but was also glad for opportunity to eavesdrop on a heated conversation between the Everdeen family.

 

He recognized Katniss' harsher than usual tone immediately.

 

"And who exactly, does this... mister Mellark character believe himself to be?" The young lady demanded huffing out something terrible. "Why hasn't he answered the summons this family has dispatched for him? Does he believe himself somehow superior to us?"

 

"Katniss, the man has to see about his business first. He's got to make sure his affairs are in order before leaving London," explained the Earl calmly.

 

"He's but a simple baker, for crying out loud! How difficult could it be to put a sign up in his window announcing his shop has ceased trading?" The girl exclaimed in irritation. "It's bad manners to leave us waiting, I tell you!"

 

"Oh dear, simmer down darling. Why it's perfectly normal that the young man is taking his time. In fact it tells me, he's not moved by the prospect of sudden wealth and better social position." The wizened voice of the Dowager added pleasantly, dismissively even.

 

"My exact sentiment, indeed," concurred Mr. Abernathy's gruff cadence. "In fact, I think it's very mature of the boy to protect a business that has been in his family so many generations. However lowly it seems to you Sweetheart, something a man has built, and worked for with his own two hands, is more valuable than any riches you could find in Twelveton,"

 

"I applaud his pride and work ethic. I respect him for how he's handling this change in his life. It can't be easy to wake up one day and find yourself heir to all this grandeur. Being an Earl is not so simple as to just sit and command his tenants Katniss, I thought I had taught you better than that!" Said the Earl with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "You, and this goes for you as well Primrose, are to be welcoming, respectful and exceedingly nice, to Lord Mellark, once he and his mother arrive in our house..."

 

"What? Are they to live here in Twelveton?" Interrupted Primrose, sounding more confused than aggravated.

 

"Of course not dear. They will only stay until Mellark House is built and furnished." Assured the Countess in her sweet, even tone. Cato could picture the fair woman, patting her doppelgänger child on the top of her hands in an act of assurance.

 

The countess reminded Cato of his late mother in rare moments of tenderness. She was possibly the only person Cato was genuinely fond of, in the Everdeen family.

 

"Either way, I think it's rude to leave us waiting this long!" Groused Katniss almost inaudibly behind the thick mahogany doors.

 

"Shsss, child!" Chided Effie haughtily, "the longer they wait to come the better. Don't you see what having another family under our responsibility means for our finances?"

 

  
"Of course not, she wouldn't know those things, because it doesn't involve being a strong-headed lass!" Muttered Abernathy.

 

Once again, Cato's imagination painted the scene before his eyes: the raven-haired heiress shooting poisonous daggers at the old man through flaming gray eyes, while the old bastard took a generous pull of whatever spirits he would be nursing in his hand. This image almost made the footman laugh in merriment. But instead he decided to finally knock, announcing tea, very well knowing he'd have to go back to the kitchens for a bigger tea service.

 

His knuckles had almost touched the wood, when he heard the last part of the conversation... The important part of the conversation, at least for himself.

 

"What is so dreadful about another family living under our protection?" Asked Primrose a bit naively.

 

"Well, for starters, it will be another household which needs to be fitted for socializing. Second, another household that would need staffing and lastly, it's another household we would have to run."

 

"Perhaps they won't need a staff!" Snapped Katniss, "perhaps they can cook, and clean and maintain their own house without our intervention... after all, they're bakers!"

 

"That's enough from you, young lady!" The Earl sounded angry finally, but before he could continue, his wife's soft voice cut the tension.

 

"We will post adverts for help in the paper, as soon as the Mellarks arrive and start seeking their staff together with them... Why, we can lend them a few of our service maids until they get their own help!"

 

"Ugh..."

 

Cato knocked the door, cutting off whatever snooty remark was about to leave the eldest Everdeen girl's mouth.

 

His mood only seemed to soar at the possibility of becoming this Lord Mellark's temporary valet and all the opportunities he could tap into from there, if he played his cards just right.

 

* * *

 

 

**Twelveton Abbey, November, 1912**

 

In the months following the disaster of Mr. Marvel's sudden death at Twelveton, Katniss grew skittish, reticent, and guarded. She didn't allow anyone outside of her family to touch her, except for Madge who although not part of her duties, had taken to assisting her with personal care – dressing for the day or for bed, or simply assisting her for baths.

 

Few people had noticed how the normally outspoken lady had developed an air of forlorn quietness. The many visitors that came to call on her after her six month period of mourning ended, usually left feeling affronted by the young woman's lack of interest. It truly wasn't that Katniss was trying to be difficult, it wasn't even that she tried to be catty in her treatment of men, she simply decided to put up defensive walls around herself to fend off any more dangers. She did not trust many people after Marvel had proven her naïveté to be her downfall. Sadly, her stoic and morose behavior was always taken as veiled slights against her would-be suitors.

 

Only a handful of man saw her attitude as something deeper, but still concluded wrongly that the young woman had suddenly found herself grieving a lost lover, in her late fiance Darius. Those few men, respectfully vowed to allow her more time to mourn her loss, and return for a second try in the coming year. To those men, she was grateful.

 

Primrose, on the other hand, was all too aware her sister wasn't being rude to her suitors out of spite, let alone grief, but she had no means to uncover the real reason her sister seemed to obstinately refuse every single man that walked through Twelveton's gates, with the intent of wooing the eldest daughter of Lord Panemshire in a most prestigious marriage. Prim suspected everyone at this point, she had finally gotten over her bitterness concerning Darius' passing and Katniss' aloofness towards it; she was worrying instead, since the moment she overheard her parents discuss the suitor issue. George had threatened to find her a husband whether she liked it or not, if she didn't choose one on her own and no matter how much protestation came from the Countess in the matter, the Earl had spoken.

 

Prim resented the cage her sister had grown up in, and how helpless a woman's position was, in any level of the societal spectrum.

 

She figured Katniss was just shaken by the awfulness that was the death of Mr. Marvel, added to how indelicately Sir Brutus had handled the situation, practically blaming the unexpected occurrence on Twelveton itself. To say that her father and Aunt Effie had felt aggravated and deeply offended was putting it lightly. There was nothing uglier than the way Sir Brutus left the Manor and Prim could only think about the relief she felt the man was gone. Prim concluded her sister simply had raised her standards in a marriage prospect and she applauded her for it.

 

What she did not understand was her mother's hovering and coddling. Lily had never played favorites, especially with independent minded Katniss; Lily usually tended to spend more time by Prim's side, nurturing her love for medicinal plants and their practical uses. Primrose was more manually gifted, when it came to sewing and embroidering, things their mother excelled at, while Katniss was more of the nature-loving kind, preferring to tag along her father during horse rides and hunting outings. Lately however, Lily and Katniss seemed a bit... closer. More secretive even. Prim decided not to pry, not for lack of interest but out of respect for her family.

 

Prim's musings came to a halt when she heard the soft knock on her door.

 

"Come in!" She called from her vanity, as she finished brushing her hair for dinner.

 

A wisp of a maid with thick auburn hair, walked into the room, her face thin and pinched. Prim smiled remembering how Katniss had commented about the girl favoring a fox.

 

"My lady Primrose, I've been sent to collect you and inform you that Lord Mellark and his mother have arrived at Twelveton, and will be joining the family for dinner."

 

"Oh... Was my sister informed?" Prim felt anxious suddenly.

 

Katniss hadn't taken the news of the knew found Heir Apparent, very warmly. In fact she resented the notion of her father having to hand Twelveton over to a stranger. However rudely her sister was perceived by her suitors without actively trying to be standoffish, made Prim afraid of how cold Katniss could be when actually trying to be rude. Prim felt the need to rush to her sister, to somehow keep her from treating the newcomers badly.

 

"I'm not sure, my lady. The Lady Katniss was in town with Madge, picking out fabrics for her winter wardrobe," said Foxface flatly, as if she couldn't be bothered with such frivolity.

 

  
"Mmm. Alright. Never mind that. Help me clip this brooch into my hair, and we can be gone."

 

Foxface nodded, and came closer to Prim to affix the embellishment on her fine, golden hair.

 

\----------------------

 

"Right this way, Lady Katniss," whispered Boggs, guiding Katniss as quickly as he could into the dining hall. Boggs sounded almost out of breath when he informed her that supper was just about to be served and she came down the stairs just in time to join everyone at the table. He however, unaware of her ignorance to the guests awaiting her with the rest of her family, neglected to mention it as he pushed into the room ahead of her to announce her arrival, late as it was.

 

"Excuse me, my lords and ladies... the lady... Kat..."

 

"Katniss..." A breathy sigh was heard right before Boggs finished the name of the young lady.

 

"... niss...?" The Butler ended the rest of his introduction in a questioning note.

 

Confusion permeated the room, as the man that had uttered Katniss' name in such an affected fashion stood from his chair, looking dazed and incredulous, sporting a most goofy ghost of a smile on his slackening lips.

 

Katniss felt like she had been slapped in the face as soon as she set foot inside the dining room. She froze on her tracks and simply stared into the bluest eyes she had ever seen her whole life. She had not the faintest idea who this man was, but the fear as old as time itself in the pit of her stomach, and the way her heart leaped, and stopped, and took off running in her chest, as her name rolled off his tongue in a caress, like a lover's touch, warned her, this man... whoever he was, must be avoided like the plague at all costs!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, This is were Downton Abbey and The Hunger Games mix! 
> 
> Quick review and explanation of this chapter: this one comprises mostly the events of the first year in the life of the Everdeens, starting with the Real Life Tragedy of the sinking of the Titanic, on April 14th-15th of 1912, just like in DA canon. If you are familiar with the TV show, you might have noticed the few big tweaks I made to the story in order to crossover, the first big one being the Mary/Mr. Pamuk story line, whereas in DA it's a conscious, consensual affair, here isn't between Katniss and Marvel, it's a calculated desicion and I apologize if it was hard to read in anyway, I hope I didn't offend or hurt or scared away anyone, but I needed a PTSD trigger for Katniss for future chapters. The next big change is the Isobel/Mrs. Mellark character, since I'm basically keeping the "Cora Crawley" character mostly untouched in Mrs. Everdeen, I figured I had to keep the Witch, so we won't see a loving, supportive mother for our Peeta boy, sorry about that too. The third one, I fused Edith and Sybil into one Primrose character, but, Prim will be more Sybil from now on, since I really didn't like Edith anyway, my only selfish desicion on this story. 
> 
>  
> 
> Quick reference, for those of us not familiar with positions, in Edwardian Aristocracy: 
> 
> Earl: nobleman, who in early centuries ruled a region on a King's stead. In English history it replaced the Count. An Earl's wife is still refer as Countess. The Earl is addressed as Lord, while his wife and daughters as Lady.
> 
> Dowager Countess: is the living widow of an Earl, who's inherit from her marriage.
> 
> Butler: Chief manservant of a house.
> 
> Valet: A male personal attendant to a man. A valet is responsible for the appearance (clothes) of his boss.
> 
> Footman: a male, domestic worker, who serves at tables, tends the doors and runs errands.
> 
> Ottoman Attaché: the Ottoman Empire was a multinational, multilingual empire controlling much of Southeast Europe, Western Asia, and great part of Africa. An attaché, is a person on the staff of an ambassador, typically with a specialized area of responsibility. The Ottoman Empire is also known as the Turkish Empire, holding its capital is what is now Istanbul.
> 
> In the next chapter, we will of course see more of Peeta, and learned about _his_ 1912\. We will also finally meet Gale, Sae and the rest of the downstairs crew, although I'm not planing on developing too deep a story for the servants, as in DA. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment below!


	3. November, 1912: Lord Peeta Mellark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU,
> 
> my peeps!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own THG or DA, although I'm trying to blend direct quotes from DA into this chapter. Mistakes are mostly mine.
> 
> Thank you so much to Shellibug, who's contributions to this WiP is irreplaceable, Twelvetone Abbey wouldn't be any good without her! 
> 
> Todays Banner comes from the very talented Otrascosasseries, who's prompt got me into writing this wonderful story, and now she has graced me with this beautiful gift! 
> 
> This chapter will be Peeta centered... or rather "getting to know Peeta, and the struggles his presence causes in Katniss". It's more fillerie than what I wished it to be, but it had to be done. We will get to more story development in the next chapter.
> 
> If there is a term you don't understand, don't be afraid to ask, I'm using a few old "Britishisms", curtesy of Shellibug, and I won't always write a glossary at the end of the chapters, feel free to ask away. 
> 
> Please be advice, this chapter is closed to 16.5K words... I know... my bad! I should have divided it into two, but I'm trying to work on my other stories as well, and something was bound to suffer for my sh*tty multitasking attempt :( Sorry. That being said... Enjoy!
> 
> Leave comments at bottom!

 

 

Katniss stood rooted, under the archway leading into the dining room, eyebrows shooting all the way into her forehead, in amused confusion at the man's reaction to her presence.

 

The poor lad's eyes widened, seemingly remembering himself after his strange response to the lady's entrance, likely regretting his outburst.

 

Katniss wasn't the only one confused by the man's familiarity with her name. Everyone already seated at the table gaped at him, as he slowly clamped his mouth shut, and tightened his jaw. The gesture only lasted a second, and then all signs of embarrassment were wiped cleared of the man's face.

 

He smiled benignly at Katniss and then turned to addressed her father, "My apologies my Lord and ladies," he said nodding at the Countess and Prim and then at the Dowager at the other side of the table. "Since I've met all of you already, I logically deduced this would be the lovely Lady Katniss. Naturally, I've gone a bit too far in my enthusiasm, at making everyone's acquaintance,"

 

The man's voice was soft, deep, and very soothing. It made Katniss squirm and bristle, knowing nothing good would ever come from fraternizing with that adonis.

 

"Very observant of you, sir. Regrettably, I cannot say I can use my skills of deduction to identify you,"

 

"Katniss," George warned his daughter with and edge of annoyance at the snarky remark she had hidden under a sweet smile and light tone of voice.

 

"Oh no, do not worry my lord! I actually did recognize the lady from some family function, we attended in London, perhaps over a decade or so ago. I recall the lady said she was five, just before she regaled us with a beautiful rendition of the Valley song."

 

Everyone was still regarding the man with quizzicality, even after he lowered his impossibly blue eyes to his place setting, before returning his gaze to the rest of his companions. To say the silence in the room was stretching uncomfortably was and understatement.

 

"You should consider yourself lucky, my good sir," Katniss said at last, voice softer, as if she had taken pity of the big hole the man had dug for himself, "I don't sing much these days," she finished nonchalantly, approaching her empty seat.

 

"Well... that's a pity, my lady. You had the voice of an angel." The words were quietly spoken, but still carried over the dead silence of the diners, as if they were the only two people in the room.

 

The Earl slowly stood from his chair, remembering etiquette, right as Mr. Cato reached to pull the back of Katniss' chair for her to sit down.

 

"Well... It seems master Mellark has kept up with our family, better than we have kept up with his," a frown formed on the Earl's forehead for a moment.

 

Katniss' gray eyes flashed to the handsome man across the table, at the mention of his name. He seemed bent on avoiding eye contact with her, but now she had a fairly educated guess of who the mesmerizing blue eyes belonged to, and she decided she was right the first time, nothing good would come of fraternizing with this Mellark, character.

 

"I'm not quite sure if I should apologize for that slight, or not, Lord Mellark. But, if it is the same to you, I think official introductions are in order," George said calmly, addressing his eldest, while somewhere at the back of the room, Haymitch's raspy voice could be overheard grunting a "I'll drink to that", causing Effie to scoff indignantly.

 

Master Mellark was having trouble maintaining a smile on his face, that insisted on turning into a grimace.

 

It was all George could do to keep a semblance of propriety at the table, and not sigh loudly in defeat. Dinner was rapidly going to shit and he had no way of salvaging it, if he didn't get everyone eating and soon!

 

"Katniss dear, I'm happy to finally introduce you to Lord Peeta Mellark, newest Heir Apparent to our station," motioning towards Peeta, he continued, " Lord Mellark, this is my little flower, the Lady Katniss'" He waited for them to acknowledge each other before he moved on in the introductions, "Now, Katniss dear, to Lord Mellark's left, sits the lovely Winifred Mellark, our cousin on the Thread's side of the family." George gave the woman a welcoming smile, "I must apologize, if I'm mistaken, but I think Winifred is our third cousin, twice removed?"

 

"My lord is absolutely right!" Winifred responded with a small giggle, causing Peeta to cough in order to hide a mirthless laugh. His mother also had to fight the impulse to throw her water glass at him, only allowing herself a disapproving glare his way; he promptly recovered, deciding it best to try and smooth things out with Katniss instead.

 

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Lady Katniss," said Peeta, his smile soft and almost shy, causing a rush of warmth to flood Katniss' chest. She stiffened at the sensation, immediately disliking the effect he had on her.

 

"Just call me Cousin Katniss. No sense in dispensing formalities when they are unnecessary," the young lady said rather curtly, her eyes shifting uncomfortably around the table.

 

"If I must say, all those degrees of separation on a family tree, seem rather complicated to keep up with in my opinion, I am with cousin Katniss. At the end of all things, we're all still family!" Said Winifred, her smile was cloying and practiced, but her eyes still hid harshness behind the affable veneer.

 

Effie harrumphed haughtily, "The degrees are there for a reason," she muttered under her breath, "Otherwise it would all be a big mess of confusion, no one would know who belongs where! Why without them, sweet young Peeta here, would have never found his rightful place at this table!"

 

The two women regarded one another with poorly concealed animosity, but it was Winifred the one to graciously back down.

 

"My lady Dowager is right. We must be grateful the line of descent has been kept and honored." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Peeta visibly tensed up, next to his mother.

 

Winifred wasn't stupid, she knew how to play the high society games, even if she was just a simple baker's widow, "I am just so glad we are here, sharing supper together... _as_ family. It has been an honor meeting all of you in person!"

 

"A true honor!" Chimed Peeta in jovially.

 

The rest of the table gave their agreement and proceeded to partake of the spread in front of them. An air of friendly conversation rose, when Primrose started asking all kinds of questions to the new cousins, anything from general small talk to seemingly impertinent questions, to which they would either respond with ease, or rather awkwardly depending on the inquiry.

 

Lily tried to hold her daughter back on more than one occasion but she was rapidly growing flustered, looking to her husband for support, which he dispensed as patiently as possible. George had always had a soft spot for Prim, on account of being the baby of the family, so she always had a bit more leeway in contrast to stoic Katniss.

 

Peeta on the other hand, seemed delighted to be able to converse with Prim, which oddly enough, didn't sit quite well with Katniss. She could see the way her impressionable little sister hung on the baker's every word, as if he was telling the most compelling of stories. She had managed to convince herself, she was peeved by this exchange because her sister reminded her of herself, with that odious Mr. Marvel, and it was her duty to protect her baby sister from the dangers of the opposite sex, but deep down, the unease ran stray from that sentiment, and into something Katniss would never allow herself to admit.

 

An opportunity arose to shut the man up, when she noticed how confused he had grown at the number of forks, framing his place setting. She studied his every move, how he reached out a hand for one, picked it up, laid it back down and almost surreptitiously looked at his mother's choice of cutlery, before picking the same one himself. With all the snide she could muster, she asked a question of her own.

 

"So, how have you found life in Twelveton so far? Is it quite different than what you're accustomed to?" She stabbed a shoot of asparagus with her fork, and stared into Peeta's smiling eyes with an air of superiority.

 

  
"It's quite different, yes. I must say, it will be a delight to figure out a new living schedule," he smiled amusedly at Katniss, who gave him a polite smile in return whilst chewing on her vegetables.

 

"Is the life of a baker a hard one? Would you adapt to live like the rest of us?" She asked while cutting a piece of her mignonette.

 

"It will surely be different. What do you do to entertain yourselves here, in Twelveton?" He mimicked her, cutting a piece of carrot with the side of his fork, instead of his knife, at which Winifred frowned and Katniss arched a disapproving eyebrow.

 

With an edge of superiority, she answered his question, "We ride horses, we hunt, we call on friends. We simply live an active life. I suppose you must favor more sedentary pursuits, with your profession and all,"

 

The Earl shook his head, interjecting in a pacifying tone, "Not every family like ours hunts Katniss dear, why Lord Leeg and his daughters would never allow it on their land,"

 

"Well, I think they're rather boring!" She countered sipping on her water glass.

 

"So, do you hunt?" Asked Peeta carefully, watching his use of silverware this time, to avoid anymore mishaps.

 

"Surely. My weapon of choice is the bow and arrow, which father taught me to use," she leaned her head to her father, and smiled at him in adoration for a moment, before turning back to Peeta, "But, I'm sure you probably care more about reading books and the sort, than outdoor sports," she said smirking.

 

"I do enjoy books a great deal. But, my passion is more for the fine arts: paintings, sketching, music, even masonry holds my attention if it's done artfully," his smile was a bit guarded as he spoke.

 

"How wonderful! We do have a few churches and museums around town that might be of interest to you Cousin Peeta!" Gushed Prim excitedly, "If you are interested, I could give you a tour of the choicest places, for you to admire the art!" Offered the young lady enthusiastically.

 

"That would be absolutely lovely, Cousin Primrose," beamed Peeta at the towheaded teenager.

 

"Of course!" She blushed prettily, turning back to her own meal with a smile on her face.

 

Katniss bristled at the whole conversation. "Fine arts, then? How about literature? I've been reading on Greek mythology lately. Are you familiar with the story of King Minos and his monster, the Minotaur?"

 

Peeta looked up at Katniss, regarding her suspiciously. He licked his lip, asking slowly, "Why?"

 

"Well, I find it fascinating," Katniss exclaimed, not looking at him when she cut another piece of her food, before waving her hands animatedly. "The Minotaur was a creature, half man, half bull, all rage, placed in a labyrinth to hunt and devour the fittest of youths and fairest of maidens, sent as tributes from the realm of King Aegeus, to appeased King Minos, for an affront the young tributes didn't even have part of. The contenders were promised to be spared if they could outwit the labyrinth and survive the beast. Except, none of them ever did."

   
"Katniss dear, I enjoy literature as much as the next person, but this is hardly dinner table conversation, child," said Aunt Effie sniffling nervously.

 

"You are most likely right Aunty Effie. I must say, there is something inherently wrong with a species that sacrifices their offspring to settle their differences," muttered Katniss turning her sight to her plate, almost in embarrassment.

 

"But the monster was defeated," Cut in Peeta abruptly, "the tributes were saved. The practice abolished. Isn't that right?" Said Peeta, rising a dark blonde eyebrow, wiping his mouth daintily with his cloth napkin.

 

"Of course," replied Katniss, setting down her utensils and giving Peeta her undivided attention, "the poor chosen souls were rescued by Theseus, King Aegeus' own son, who volunteered to take the place of one of the youths, promising his father he would slay the Minotaur and return home displaying white sails in his mast, symbolizing he had come out the victor." After a moment of pregnant silence, where the two of them simply stared at each other, once more as if they were the only ones occupying the room, she leaned back into her chair, and said smugly, "Theseus, son of a king! Rather more fitting, wouldn't you say? a prince, full of valor, with many physical traits, was what was ultimately needed to slay the monster and bring the terror to an end!" Self satisfaction dripping from her every pore.

 

"Sure," Peeta agreed, imitating her previous action, of purposefully ignoring her while cutting a chunk of his veal with the wrong knife, to spite her, "That would be mostly true, until you take into account how the prince was bound to his humanity, and let the pressures of the gods, influence him. Abandoning fair Ariadne on that beach, after all she did for him out of honest love, it was thanks to her he got the tools to defeat both the labyrinth and the Minotaur. Then allowing his regret over forsaking the maiden overtake him, he forgot to fulfill his promise to his father. He never displayed his white sails, resulting in the king's untimely death." Picking up his glass of wine, he swirled the deep red liquid in slow motions, enjoying the bouquet of aromas dispelling from within the glass, he smiled, just like her, a self satisfied smile. "One should always remember, noble blood does not always translate to perfection. It just enhances the attention of the commoners, when there are failures,"

   
Katniss pressed her lips together at the answer she was given, realizing her veiled insult had misfired spectacularly, just as Haymitch, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole meal, gleefully chimed in with a boisterous, mocking laugh. "Well, I'll be damned, Boy! Why I can completely agree with you, and will drink to that!" The man raised a crystal wine glass, taking a generous gulp still chuckling merrily.

 

Lord Panemshire could only shake his head, giving up on the lost cause that was keeping his daughter in line and ignoring the glares his wife threw at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Well, that could've gone better," huffed Winifred frustratedly, crossing the antechamber of the rooms given to them for time being.

 

Peeta collapsed on a plush couch in the common area shared by their adjoining bedrooms, sighing dramatically. He covered his face with his two big, calloused hands and mentally braced for the onslaught of insults that were sure to come from his mother's mouth.

 

"Right you are, Mother," he said rubbing his eyes tiredly.

 

"It's a good thing that these people need us, with how you behaved tonight like a blundering boob!" Winifred said rolling her eyes in annoyance. "You are still supposed to make a good impression dear, it matters not if you are already a shoe in, it's better to have redundant safety points, anchoring us to the Everdeens," she said ignoring Peeta's disbelieving stare, as if it was nothing to be concerned about.

   
She stood in front of a round ornate mirror, hanging on the wall, above a side table laden with fresh flowers. She kept looking at her reflection and picking at invisible strands from her elaborate hair do. Peeta simply stared at his mother as if he was just looking at her for the very first time in his life. She was already acting so vain, wearing the gaudiest clothes he has ever set eyes on, it was no doubt the monster would thrive in this environment. He only prayed it wasn't as obvious to the others as it was for him. Somehow, he doubted his luck.

 

"At least you did one thing right," Winifred said, bringing Peeta's tired gaze to her reflection in the looking glass,

 

"And what is that?" He asked clearly annoyed.

 

"Engaging the younger girl to take you out exploring the town'" she said dismissively, toying with her gold necklace. "Although I would have preferred you concentrated your attention on the older one, since she's currently unattached and of marrying age,"

 

"Mother, I would rather befriend the ladies, specially Katniss. I've heard she's been struggling with her admirers, and I will respect her space. She's still mourning her recently deceased fiancé, which I must remind you, was your cousin as well, so please show some sliver of respect for the departed ones," he sighed vehemently. "I don't want any of these people to think me ungrateful, strange or... God forbid eldritch. I don't want them to think me some sinister character I'm not!" Ground Peeta between clenched teeth, affronted by his mother's discount of personal feelings and her greed.

 

"Well, stop acting like a sinister character then!" Spat the woman, tearing her eyes from her own reflection to glare at her son, "And what was that all about? That whole stuttering idiot number, you performed when the Everdeen girl finally, deemed the rest of us worthy of her earthly presence?" She fixed him with a accusing stare, "I had been so pleasantly surprised, you'd held yourself adequately in front of the Earl and his family... but of course, I couldn't have hoped you wouldn't find a way to humiliate me, as usual," she sighed looking away wistfully. "And to think, that I had even felt proud of you, up until then."

 

Peeta narrowed his eyes at his mother. She had always been a terrible person to be around, bitter and envious of other people's good fortunes, never happy or grateful for her own blessings in life, but there were times... when Winifred Mellark, managed to surprise her son, who was always convinced there was _nothing_  else, his mother could do or say, to make her more appalling, and then she'd do or say something utterly hateful, proving him wrong.

 

"Thank you Mother, for the vote of confidence. I will do my best to not embarrass you any further." His response came out flat and unfeeling.

 

Growing up with that harpy as a mother, Peeta had perfected the art of sarcasm. He pulled it off without a hitch every single time. What was surprising, was how a woman under the possession of such sharp tongue, seemed to never catch on to the derision hidden in plain sight in her son's remarks.

 

"Thank you, Peeta. That's all I ask!" She returned to poke her hair and run her fingers under her eyes, where the skin was already starting to wrinkle. She made a face.

 

"I, am going to turn in!" She announced, "good night, Peeta. And remember, you're a lord now, it's completely alright to stay in bed if you so please! I know I'm going to enjoy waking up when I very well want to, and not a second earlier. No sense keeping baker's hours anymore." She marched right into her designated bedroom.

 

Peeta took a long, relaxing breath and simply sat, lazily watching his mother's door shut her out of sight completely. She had a point, he pondered. The one thing he would not miss terribly about his old life as a baker, was having to wake before the stars were completely dimmed. He might even follow her advice this once!

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Katniss threw open the door to her bedroom unceremoniously, stomping into the room like a petulant toddler who had been given a time out and had her dolly taken away.

 

"Would you stop that?" Called Lily, following close by, and softly closing the door behind her.

 

"Will I stop, what?" Snapped Katniss, yanking her gloves off her hands, and throwing them on her vanity disdainfully, as if the accessories had somehow offended her.

 

"This!" Stressed Lily, waving her hands wildly in her daughter's direction. "You've been acting like a brat all night! What's gotten into you?" she asked her child irritably.

 

"Nothing has gotten into me, Mother. I just don't feel up to entertaining unannounced visitors that sprout out of nowhere, like pesky weeds!" The young woman started yanking at the fasteners keeping the many tiny braids around her head in place.

 

"Oh!" Exclaimed Lily, a smile slowly taking shape on her pretty face, "is that it?"

 

"Is what, it?" Asked Katniss flatly, struggling to unclip her hair, without much success. When she winced, after tearing a few strands in her frantic pulling, her mother placed her soft hands on her shoulders, and forced her down onto the vanity's chair.

 

"Allow me, dear. You'll leave yourself bald, if you continue doing that," the older woman smiled to her child through the mirror.

 

Katniss relented, crossing her arms around her ribcage in frustration.

 

"So. Tell me, darling, what did you find lacking with sweet master Mellark?"

 

"What?" Katniss sputtered turning her whole body around to see her mother's soft, knowing smile.

 

"Oh, come now, Katniss. You think I didn't notice how aggravated you were, during that discussion over dinner with the young man?" Lily took hold of Katniss' shoulders and gently twisted the girl's torso back, to face the mirror instead of her. She continued talking with a light tone, "He's a nice lad, I must say. Charming, funny and very easy on the eyes. But, you seem to have found fault with him, care to tell me about it?"

 

"Well, since you really want to know, Mother, I have quite the list of grievances, actually!" Katniss snapped.

 

"Explain then, because I see nothing wrong with the young man, he was very polite to you, even when defending himself so eloquently from your badly veiled insult,"

 

Katniss hated the amused, knowing smile in her mother's face. "Oh, please! The man is as common as tesserae bread! Why he couldn't even handle his knife correctly, for God's sakes!"

 

"He's got a way with words, which he used to put you in your place and you hated that. Am I wrong?" Her mother gave her a pointed stare, but what rubbed her the wrong way was the self satisfied smirk, Lily sported. It exasperated her to no end.

 

The younger lady tried to convince herself that her mother's words were complete rubbish, and not accurate at all, but deep down, she knew she was only kidding herself.

 

"He will learn our ways in due time, Katniss. That is hardly an issue! In fact, I would risk saying that if he shows interest in you, you should go for it! He's probably the best option in the whole pool of suitors!" Retorted her mother, tossing the hair fasteners on to the vanity top. She picked up a brush and started to run it through her daughter's raven colored hair, as her lips pressed into a thin line.

 

"If you're so taken with him, why not push Prim his way? She seemed content flapping her eyelashes at him the whole night! Plus, who would ever want to inherit that woman as mother-in-Law?" The younger lady blew out a breath.

 

"Point taken," said Lily pensively. "But, Primrose is much too young, and, I do believe, you deserve to find a good husband to share your life with. If I'm not mistaken, you've finally found your match. It's okay to like Peeta Mellark, dear, just keep an open mind..."

 

"I'm broken, Mother!" Interrupted Katniss harshly. She stood up, knocking away Lily's gentle hands, "I couldn't like Peeta Mellark that way, even if he was the last man on earth. He will reject me, and resent me for misleading him. I'm ruined, and I don't think it fair to ruin another person's life,"

 

"Oh, Katniss..."

 

"No, Mother." She put a hand up stopping her mother's attempt to console her with a hug, "It's late, and I'm fatigued from my day in town this afternoon. I wish to get ready for bed, and I wish to be alone, if you don't mind,"

 

Lily's mouth formed a thin line. Her heart broke for her little girl's pain, but then she was reminded, Katniss didn't want to be a little girl. Her guilt wouldn't allow her that comfort, so she stood back and nodded her assent.

 

"Very well, my dear. But... One more thing before I leave you to it." The older lady peered down at her daughter, already trying to disrobe of her dinner clothes. Once Katniss nodded her acknowledgment, Lily continued, "I've never seen you react to anyone like you did tonight, and that's a good thing Katniss. The greatest loves stories, never happen without heartbreak or obstacles. Just be brave and reach for it. You deserve it, contrary to what you think,"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Twelveton Abbey, two days after the Mellark's arrival.**

 

 

The kitchen was bustling with activity, in preparation for lunch and supper.

 

On one table, Mrs. Sae had laid out ingredients to be cooked for supper; her choicest legs of lamb, her greenest aromatics, her best potatoes and carrots, and a wooden bowl filled with the ripest plums. On the opposite table sat a handful of plump chickens, already plucked and butchered, to be thrown in a pot with some potatoes and other vegetables for a lunch soup.

 

The Head Cook huffed, wiping sweat away from her forehead, before calling loudly to her assistant. "Rue, will ya come over and stir this porridge? I need to go into to pantry to fetch some dried vanilla beans!" The plant being exotic for England, made the help at Twelveton Abbey, perhaps the only non nobles to enjoy the spice in their breakfast.

 

"Yes, Mrs. Sae," said Rue in her sweet, soft voice, approaching her boss and taking the wooden spoon from her to continue stirring the concoction.

 

Mrs. Sae had to elbow her way outside the kitchen, as maids and service boys shuffled around the space, trying to finish putting away the leftovers from the breakfast they had just cleared upstairs, so they could sit down for their own morning meal, before continuing their daily chores.

 

Cato had already shimmied out of his suit jacket and white buttoned up dress shirt, and simply sat at a smaller table to the side wearing a white cotton tee, all the while watching the other employees come and go in a blur. He chuckled to himself, bringing his cup of black coffee to his lips for a sip. He found it amusing how the others ran about like headless chickens, when everything could be so much simpler to take care of, if they had a more organized leader to listen to.

 

He had nothing against old Sae, per say, but the woman was old, easily flustered and to everyone's chagrin, she couldn't handle too many people in her way when she was on a hurry, as was the case at that very moment. The woman was a whiz with limited resources and ingredients, but since she worked in Twelveton's kitchens, she could pretty much acquire whatever took her fancy. She was still too much of a perfectionist in her trade, and got aggravated if her staff was short of perfect.

 

Poor Rue was usually the receiver of all of Mrs. Sae's aggravation, even if the girl herself had been completely perfect. But it was probably the girl's fault for never fighting back and always taking Sae's misdirected flustered remarks. Rue was too patient, Cato mused. She was like Mrs. Sae's pet, loyal and understanding, never rising to the bait of her immediate master, but carefully fixing whatever Sae found fault with, all with a smile on her cute little face.

 

Cato wondered if he could get into the teenager's quarters and convince her to tryst with him. He wondered if she'd keep quiet about it or if she'd blab. Then he shook his head. It would never work with Clove being so perceptive. Also, at seventeen, Rue was still too young for him. The thought vanished immediately.

 

"Good morning, Mister Hawthorne," some maid or another greeted, making Cato's eyes narrow to slits as they looked to the newcomer entering the kitchen, carrying a tray containing the day's paper and a recently used juice glass.

 

"Morning Twill. I see your foot is no longer paining you anymore, good for you!"

 

Cato saw the girl, Twill, smile and nod in gratitude, "Yes, thank you. That massage worked wonders on my ankle. Tell your mother and sister I said thank you!" She said smiling broadly at the tall, muscular man.

 

Mr. Hawthorne's dark hair was combed back neatly, bringing out the shine of his deep gray eyes. He smiled at Twill, and nodded, "I will be sure to tell them. Thank you for the token of appreciation, my sister loved the ribbons,"

 

"It was no problem at all. My family always get scraps of fabric and other materials from the textile mill they work at. Ribbons are their specialty!"

 

"Well, I thank you for it. My sweet Posy wears them to school each day." Then, Mr. Hawthorne continued on, bringing his glass to the sink. He washed it himself, seeing as there were no dirty plates or pans crowding the sink.

 

Cato followed his nemesis' every movement, until the man turned to serve himself some of the steaming porridge Sae had been cooking for her fellow coworkers.

 

"This smells very good, Rue!" The dark haired man said to the girl with a soft smile, as he stood next to her, holding a bowl and spoon in his hand.

 

"Oh, Mister Gale, I've hardly added grains to it, all I've done for it so far is stirring. All the credit is to be directed to Mrs. Sae, I didn't do much." The girl said smiling back, mischievously.

 

Hawthorne laughed full and loudly. Shaking his head, next he whispered only for Rue to hear, "I've got a letter to give you, by the way! And this one weighs more than my entire overnight bag! I was very tempted to break the envelope open, just to see what exactly did my brother put in it!"

 

"Oh, you better not, Mister Hawthorne, that would be terrible manners!" The girl's honey colored eyes widened in horror at the possibility of someone reading the words her intended had written for her. Particularly if the reader, was the writer's brother.

 

"Not to worry, my dear. I didn't open it!" Rue deflated with a small relieved sigh. "I'll hand it to you after chores this afternoon. That way, you can get lost in your correspondence without Sae screaming at you for daydreaming." He winked at the girl and turned away in search of a spot at the help's eating table.

 

He had just set down his bowl of porridge on the table, when Mr. Boggs strolled into the kitchen, his head swiping around the room at the faces of his subordinates, until his brown, warm eyes fell on Gale's form, who had just pulled a chair back and was in the process of lowering himself into it.

 

"Ah! There you are Mister Hawthorne!" The balding Butler exclaimed, taking long strides in his direction.

 

Gale immediately straighten out of the chair his bottom had hardly touched. "Mister Boggs, how can I be of service?" He asked politely. Gone was the slight smile he had given the housemaid Twill, replaced by an impassive, yet kind expression.

 

"Lord Panemshire has asked for a man to assist Lord Mellark this afternoon, as he goes through the pantry, inspecting our stores of flour and yeast..."

 

"Whatever for?" Screeched Mrs. Sae coming to stand straight in front of Boggs, eying him through narrowed eyes. "That is her Ladyship's responsibility, plus I pride myself on carrying the absolute best products in my kitchens! What does a noble boy know about flour, anyway?"

 

"Beg your pardon, ma'am, but I thought I was addressing Mister Hawthorne on this issue." Stated Boggs sternly. "Whatever the Lord Mellark wants to do with his time, is his own business, much more, if Lord Panemshire has given his blessing. But since you've asked, Lord Mellark comes from a long line of bakers, so I'm quite sure he might have a notion about what he likes in his flours, not that this information is any of our concern, mind you, but I expect the cooperation of every single one of you," he punctuated each word with a hard stare into everyone's faces, "or you will have to look for employment elsewhere."

 

Boggs took a pause to scan the kitchen which had gone eerily quiet, before looking back at Mrs. Sae who looked pale as paper and rigid in stance.

 

"Is that clear?" He asked burning his threat to everyone's minds, with his stare.

 

"Of course, sir. My apologies," demurred Sae, before returning to her post next to the stove, practically shoving Rue out of her way in her haste to get away from the seething glare of Boggs.

 

The rest of the kitchen resumed their dings and bangs and finally Boggs turned to Gale, who still stood by his empty seat, pretending he wasn't terribly uncomfortable with the situation.

 

"I apologize for that," said Boggs, with a wave of his hand. Then pulled a chair from the table as well and dropped into it heavily. "Please, I didn't mean to interrupt your breakfast, Mister Hawthorne, proceed." He gestured to Gale's rapidly cooling food.

 

Before Gale could reply, another bowl was placed in front of Boggs, but whereas the older man's porridge steamed in the busy space, Gale's was almost crusted over from sitting too long without being touched. Not being one for wasting perfectly good food, Gale sat down and tucked into his now cold meal.

 

"As I was saying," Boggs started after inhaling a couple of spoonfuls of his food, "Lord Mellark has asked to visit the pantry and the Earl has asked for a trusted man to show him around. In fact, Lord Panemshire has suggested you could take the time to assist the new heir, whilst he spends time downstairs,"

 

Gale nodded, "If that's what my lord asks of me, I will be happy to guide Lord Mellark around. I hope it is not an inconvenience for my fellow coworkers, that they'll be one set of hands short for the time. I know the days are growing busier as the festivities approach. My only concern is whether you will all be alright with sparing my services for the afternoon," He offered quietly.

 

"We will manage. I think Mrs. Sae will be able to function without you for a few hours," the man winked and laughed, glancing at Sae still barking orders to the lesser kitchen maids, deploring on how thin and small the carrots for the lunch soup looked.

 

A shadow obscured Boggs' smiling face suddenly and the Butler turned to find Cato standing at his side, his light, cold eyes, hard and challenging.

 

"Mister Boggs, could I perhaps, persuade you to allow me to serve Master Mellark when he comes to the kitchens. I for one, have been in this corridors for longer than Mister Hawthorne, and I'm confident I'm more familiar with our stocks, seeing as I am, First Footman," his voice was borderline dangerous when he spoke, he tossed Gale a carefully uncaring glance to see what kind of response had he risen from the Valet.

 

To Cato's everlasting annoyance, Gale wasn't even looking at him, more interested in scraping clean his breakfast bowl, than what the other man was proposing.

 

"Mister Cato, that's a very generous offer, but the Earl has handpicked Mister Hawthorne for the job. Lord Panemshire has his reasons, and we must abide by his directives. Otherwise, I would probably have asked you personally," responded Boggs diplomatically.

 

"But, I'm more than suited for the appointment!" Pressed Cato, losing his cool. When Boggs' face took a sterner expression, he inhaled deeply into his lungs to calm himself. "Could I at least offer my services as temporary Valet for Lord Mellark? I noticed he seems to be lacking one." His voice softer, controlled, serville.

 

"Ah! Well, I regret to inform you mister Cato that we are expecting one mister Chaff, recommend by Mister Abernathy, to take the post of Valet to Lord Mellark. I wished I had known you were willing to take the duties upon yourself, it would've been much easier to simply have one of our own perform the duties, but it seems you've volunteered your services a bit too late. Perhaps, if things don't work with Mister Chaff?"

 

Cato nodded curtly at his superior's tone of dismissal, completely ignoring Gale who was currently working on a piece of bread smeared with goat milk butter.

 

Boggs sighed.

 

"I swear, that man is the reason I've lost my hair," he said under his breath, plunging his spoon into his porridge and bringing it back into his mouth.

 

"Beg your pardon?" Said Gale, watching Boggs quizzically.

 

"Uh, Mister Cato," he nudged his head in the direction Cato had just left. "I've been looking for reasons to rid us of him for years but he always manages to do a good enough job, to get by. He hasn't done anything we could use as excuse to terminate his employment at Twelveton," the man rubbed his forehead tiredly with one hand.

 

"Do you need to have an excuse to sack someone?" Asked Gale raising an eyebrow.

 

"I would say so, yes," responded Boggs calmly. "You cannot just toss somebody on the street because you don't like the way they look at you. There has to be a tangible reason to take somebody's livelihood away. So far, mister Cato, has done a terrific job at staying within acceptable parameters. We can't touch him unless he does something terrible and honestly, we pray nothing terrible ever happens."

 

"Of course. It makes complete sense." Agreed Gale, sipping from a tea mug.

 

"Mister Hawthorne," stated Boggs seriously, bringing Gale's attention to his deep brown eyes, so full of warmth and well hidden strength; "When I said, Lord Panemshire had his reasons to appoint you as Master Mellark's tour guide, I was not lying. You see, his lordship trusts your opinions and values your advice. I believe he will tell you this personally, once you return to his side after your meal, but I think it is fair to relay this confidence, anyway. Lord Everdeen... he believes, this would be a good opportunity for you to observe young Lord Mellark, see how he's adapting to Twelveton's life style. Get a feel for his character, and intentions. The Earl wants to get to know, who will inherit everything he's worked so hard for, and you have the task to get to know the real Peeta Mellark, and figure him out."

 

"Does his lordship expect a written report of my findings, after?" Gale asked.

 

Boggs studied the younger man's features for a while, trying to decide if Gale was being facetious or if this was an actual, valid question of what was expected of him. Coming to the conclusion that Gale's voice lacked malice, he said cautiously, "I think it'll suffice, to just give Lord Panemshire a verbal account of your observations."

 

Gale's face remained clear of emotions, but he soon nodded, seemingly accepting his new task. After a moment of contemplation, Gale asked, "Has Master Mellark set a time to visit the pantry?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Twelveton Abbey's Dowager Countess' Manor, formal tea with Auntie Effie. Current day.**

 

 

"Lily dear, so pleasing to find you already here!" said Effie entering the formal sitting room, where her Lady's maid was already setting her tea table. The Dowager approached her nieces, to air kiss their cheeks in turn.

 

Prim who looked like she had been dragged there against her will, slumped moreslely next to her sister, who sat stoic as always, contemplating how she should ameliorate her sister's poor posture, as to not offend their aunt.

 

"Thank you so much for having us for tea, my Lady," Said Lily graciously, knowing full well this was a monthly occurrence and as much a part of Effie's social calendar as any charity event she'd host.

 

"Yes, well, dears, this will probably be the last time we will be able to get away with a private tea, without having to invite Mrs. Mellark to partake of our monthly ritual," Effie pursed her lips, sitting on her favorite chair, she picked up a cloth napkin and draped it over her lap delicately.

 

The other women followed suit, and soon a few service maids stepped in to hand out tea cups and saucers, then setting down the cream, sugar and little o'dourves. Prim sat down her tea and instead grabbed a spare plate and filled it up with small dried fruits and nuts, while looking bored and uninterested.

 

"Seeing as this will be our last tea just the four of us," said Effie conspiratorially, grabbing a spoon to stir the lump of sugar she'd just added to her cup, "Let's converse about our new resident heirs. Specially you Katniss dear, I think it's been long enough time for you to get back on the prospective husband game."

 

Katniss sighed, bracing herself for whatever Aunt Effie was about to unleash on them, trying as she might to hide the scowl slowly forming on her brow. Prim perked up, observing her sister slightly shiver, she could've sworn she even heard Katniss grunt in protest.

 

"Aunt Effie, what's on your mind?" Asked Lily politely, setting her own tea down on the table and wiping the corner of her lips smoothly.

 

Before the Dowager could say her peace, however, there was a knock on the door. A footman came in carrying a tray with small sugar biscuits which he sat on a table. Bowing his head, he left the women to their gossip, without being spoken to while in the room.

 

"I was just wondering what were your impressions of the Mellarks?" Said the matriarch regally, serving herself more of the steaming, amber beverage, while regarding her nieces one by one with a searching stare.

 

Lily let an amused noise escape the back of her throat, "Why Katniss and I were just discussing the very topic, the other night," she said airily, glancing at her daughter, who had to sip her hot tea too fast not to sneer at her mother, burning her tongue in the process.

 

"I for one, think that Cousin Peeta, is the nicest man I've ever met! He's handsome too, and very clever. I truly enjoy his sense of humor!" Offered Primrose happily, as she plucked a cookie from the platter. She finally looked more animated and Katniss wished she could just drag her back home and lock her in her bedroom for a fortnight.

 

"Of course you do," muttered Katniss under her breath, glaring at her sister under her eyelashes. She couldn’t help herself.

 

"Very well, Primrose. Nice assessment," said Effie, patting Prim's hand fondly. "How about you, child? He's almost your age you know, he'd make a great candidate for your husband, not too mention you'd keep all of our wealth and titles within the rightful heirs! It's quite the convenient development. Young Lord Mellark will be even better suited to you than poor Darius was, God rests his soul..."

 

"Ha! Hardly!"

 

"Young lady watch your manners!" Warned Effie from her perch, her eyes wide and disgruntled by her niece's disrespectful interruption.

 

"Well, I think it bad business, to marry someone who ranks so far behind you in the line to the throne of England, that his place doesn't even exist!" Katniss said crossing her arms above her chest like a bratty little girl.

 

Prim gasped in outrage, "You are so mean! You don't have to act so snobbish!"

 

"I am not acting like a snob, Prim, I'm just noting facts! Plus..." The elder sister shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, as if to detract importance to her words, "I don't really like his mother."

 

"Cousin Gwendolyn?" Asked Prim mid bite to her biscuit.

 

"Winifred, darling," corrected Lily gently, as she added cream to her tea.

 

"Yes, Winifred," repeated Prim not really bothered by her mistake, "she's always seemed perfectly lovely to me," she said finally sinking her teeth into the treat in her hand.

 

Katniss balked at her sister for a moment, "Did you not hear the stories Mister Abernathy said about the woman? She's a terrible person, according to her neighbors, but an exceptional actress, for what she's showed during every meal we've shared with them," Katniss' remark was biting, "Plus there was an underlying harshness to the way she spoke to her son over lunch today, even if she strained to sound dutiful and loving toward him. You could see it in his eyes, he was uncomfortable with her! Why would I ever want to marry into such a family, taking Winifred Mellark as mother-in-Law, when she clearly makes her own child uneasy?" Said Katniss, feeling sorry for Peeta, who had to grow up with such a witch.

 

"But that's such an insignificant detail, Katniss!" Effie laughed, "why my dear, you would be marrying the boy, not his nuisance of a mother! Believe me, you won't have to worry yourself with the woman at all! In-laws are harmless, you just put them in their house, and you won't even remember they exist!" Effie continued laughing, completely missing the knowing looks that passed between mother and daughter at the Dowager Countess' affirmation.

 

"Exactly!" Katniss mouthed to her mother, who only rolled her eyes shaking her head minutely, while Effie laughed the notion in merriment.

 

"All I'm saying is that unlike you, Aunty Effie, Winifred won't be living in a cozy little mansion, at the edge of Twelveton's property. She'd be living with us in Mellark House, being her insufferable, nasty self, every. Day. Of my. Life, for as long as Peeta and I are married!" With that, Katniss stood up, "If you excuse me, I must go powder my nose!" and stomped out of the room, presumably to use the bathrooms.

 

Looking after her grand niece's retreating form, Effie picked up her tea cup, took a sip and sat it back on the saucer then tsked. "Well, at least she didn't say she didn't like the boy himself. And she even talked of marriage as a possibility!" After swallowing a bit of a biscuit, Effie added, "I call that progress!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was the lull between the lunch clear-up and supper preparations when Katniss sauntered into the uncharacteristically empty kitchen.

 

It was a good two hours before tea was expected to be served,  for the help, but she felt unsettled in her stomach and decided a cup of chamomile tea would calm her queasiness.

 

Usually, she didn't mind being alone with Sae in the cavernous rooms of the kitchens, but as she walked further in and found no one about, she felt a tinge of anxiety. Her nerves sat heavily in the pit of her stomach, like a fear of the unknown, predicting the occurrence of something unpleasant in her near future. Feeling jumpy and out of sorts, the lady tried to keep herself from screaming out Sae's name, telling herself she was being silly and everything was perfectly alright; her irrational feelings of dread were just a product of an overly stimulated imagination and lack of sleep.

 

She was surprised, stepping onto the granite floor of the kitchen, to find it completely deserted. No Mrs. Sae sat at her table bossing sweet Rue around. No one. She looked around the corners, and into the small privy to the side of the corridor leading upstairs, but that too was empty. Katniss' nervousness was turning into blinding fear with every second passed.

 

'Where was everyone?' She asked herself again and again, but nobody was there to answer her.

 

She dashed back into the main kitchen area and saw there were two doors, she had yet to check. Both were wide open; the first leading to the sunny grounds, showing a glimpse of open skies, the chicken and goose coops, and the edible garden. She would never understand what compelled her to walk through the other door, which led into the cold, dark corridor leading to the stores and pantry. She blamed it on the voices coming from down the hall, that caused her to burst through the doors, a wild look on her face and breathing harshly.

 

Twelveton's kitchens had been renovated with the passing years, same as some of the upper floors. A new concrete floor had been laid over the original cobblestone that made up its very old flooring; a few years later, it was again upgraded to the current granite. For reasons unknown, the previous Earls of the Abbey never thought it necessary to extended the renovation past the main room that comprised the area housing the stoves, ovens and prepping counters, leaving the section of rooms that served as storage, pantry and cellar, with floors made of stone and dirt.

 

In her mounting panic, Katniss hadn't been really watching her feet, completely forgetting there was a small step that sank down about five inches. The disparity between the floors wasn't usually cause for concern, unless one wasn't paying proper attention and misstepped into the lower side, which was the case for the Lady Katniss.

 

There was a dull thud, of her body colliding shoulders first into what felt like a solid wall of warm muscle. The impact was strong enough to tilt her already faulty balance, bouncing away from the chest she had just bumped into and sending her in a downward trajectory which ended in an unladylike position .

 

Big, strong, warm hands held onto her biceps securely, before she could lay sprawled on her back on the uneven floor beneath her. She felt herself being pulled up and brought back close enough to the wall of muscle to feel the heat radiating from it, but not quite touching.

 

"Are you alright?" A deep, smooth voice asked.

 

She couldn't understand how the simple sound of a voice could make her knees wobble like gelatin, cause her stomach to flip upside down, and prompt her heart rate to rush erratically in her chest, like a bunny rabbit being chased by a fox. It instantly put her on the defensive, knowing quite well there was only one person that had managed to make her experience such absurd reactions. Hasn't he been making her feel all these strange emotions, the past two days?

 

She'd know that voice anywhere, and although this would be the very first time they had any kind of physical contact, she knew on instinct, without a shadow of a doubt, those hands and the warmth radiating from the body in front of her's, could only belong to him. Peeta Mellark.

 

She bristled at the thought of his name. She bristled, and shivered, and longed for it, all at the same time. She cursed The Fates, for bringing him to Twelveton. Before she could jump back and away from Lord Mellark's infuriatingly soothing grasp, another person rushed to help her steady herself, on her own two feet.

 

"My Lady Katniss! Are you alright?" Asked another familiar voice, not as deep but equally as manly as Lord Mellark's. The effect on her was resolutely not the same, but it was comforting nonetheless.

 

"I'm fine! I'm fine, Mister Hawthorne. Thank you," she stepped out of Peeta's hold and peered up at him, her face struggling to keep clear of any of her conflicting emotions. "Lord Mellark..."

 

"Peeta, please," he offered right away, smiling down at her, shyly.

 

She had to repress a roll of her eyes, " _Cousin_ Peeta, thank you. I'm alright now. You can both let me go. I can stand on my own,"

 

Peeta looked unconvinced but released the already ceding grip he had on her shirt sleeve and stood in front of her, relaxing his posture.

 

She hated how much everything about him was so effortlessly captivating.

 

"If my lady's alright, then I will take my leave," he said in that deep voice of his, still watching over her with a hint of concern in his deep blue eyes. Then, as if remembering himself, he turned to Gale, "Thank you so much for your time Mister Hawthorne. I appreciate you're a busy man and spent precious time to show me around. Hopefully, with my newly acquired knowledge, I'll be able to entertain myself for once!" He smiled at Gale charmingly, friendliness radiating from his every pore.

 

Katniss wished she could scream at him. As he side-stepped her, moving towards the exit, she asked bitingly, unable to stop herself.

 

"Do you find life in Twelveton boring?"

 

Peeta looked at her, seemingly surprised to see she had moved to stand under the archway, blocking his way. His eyebrows met in the center of his forehead for a moment, and then with the utmost seriousness, he replied, "No. Not boring. Not really. I feel useless, yes, but not bored. I used to have a purpose when I was a baker. I made food for others to sustain themselves. Now... I'm not so sure what to do with myself,"

 

"I'm sure something will come up to help in that area. See, my father, he's been doing whatever it is he does for so long, I'm sure if you asked him about your little conundrum, he'd give you his wisdom. But, if you think that you'll find your answer in an old musty storage room, then, so be it." she motioned a hand towards the deep end of the pantry, shrugging, trying to mask the exasperation she felt hearing him say he felt useless. As if he was judging her for not being a blue collar working girl, which wasn't necessarily true. "Maybe you should take Prim up on her offer to take you art watching!"

 

"Well, I appreciate your support, cousin Katniss. I see you truly are a vast source of encouragement," his voice, although light and spoken with humor, hinted a bit of sarcasm and cheek.

 

"I do what I can!" She responded with a similar tone, a smile sweeter than molasses on her face, cocking her head prettily to the side. All she needing to complete the picture was the batting eyelashes but she didn't stoop that low.

 

She turned to Gale, who for the first time since she'd known him, had been caught with a quizzical expression on his face, instead of his usual blank mask of neutrality. He seemed both amused and intrigued by the small show in front of him. Why he even had a raised eyebrow, and his top lip slightly curled on the left side, like a ghost of a smirk.

 

"Mister Hawthorne, have you seen Mrs. Sae? I've been looking for her but the kitchens are empty, which is most odd..."

 

Gale brought one hand to clasp his opposite wrist behind his back. An old military stance, she presumed. It suited him.

 

He looked her right in the eyes, which she liked; she liked being treated like she was a person, not a goddess. "If I'm not mistaken, Mrs. Sae, dragged, dear, poor Rue by her skinny arms, out to the gardens to gather a few ingredients for your lamb stew that she plans to serve for supper," his intense stare and serious demeanor were back full force.

 

"Oh! I was under the impression there weren't any plums available for the stew! I was quite dismayed when I was informed!" Katniss brightened up a good deal upon hearing about the menu for that evening.

 

Gale frowned, "Hmm. I hope I didn't just ruin a dinner surprise. Mrs. Sae would never forgive me."

 

"I'll act surprised, then!" She smiled brightly and started out the cramped space, in hopes to find the cook and her helper. "Thank you for your help, Mister Hawthorne!" She said turning her back on the men, waving her goodbyes over her shoulder.

 

She stopped abruptly, remembering Peeta was there too, and turned only slightly to wish him a good afternoon, before bounding towards Rue and Sae.

 

"Lamb stew?" Asked Peeta to no one in particular, his brows creasing.

 

"With plums," supplied Gale, half smiling.

 

"With plums?" Echoed Peeta, trying to understand the meaning of it.

 

"Her favorite. Specially if you pour it over wild rice... Not that she would ever let it become a known fact."

 

Peeta turned his body towards the valet, asking in confusion, "Why not?"

 

Gale sighed, directing his dark gray eyes to the hallway leading up to the kitchen, "My lord, Katniss Everdeen is a set of confusing, maddening and quite frustrating contradictions. Our fathers were childhood friends. Despite our different upbringings, and thanks to our fathers efforts to remain close regardless their distinctively different stations, the lady Katniss and I grew up friends, this is to say, I got the rare occasion to know her, for who she truly is."

 

"And... Who's that?" Asked Peeta curiously, a bit more eager than he wished.

 

Gale turned his gaze back to the former baker and smiled sympathetically, "A confused young maiden, with too many responsibilities on her shoulders, desperate to do what she thinks is right for her family." He paused and searched Peeta's eyes. "I hope you like a challenge, my lord. I've never seen so much spunk in her. Not until you arrived. I must warn you, she won't be easy to sway."

 

"Who-Um-what... What do you mean?" Sputtered Peeta widening his eyes.

 

Gale smiled benignly, "Permission to speak frankly?"

 

"Uh... granted?" Peeta's voice was high pitched, his hand waved erratically in the air, dreading Gale's frank speech.

 

"Anyone can see it, my lord, plain as day. Your... _admiration_ for the lady Katniss. To be honest, I truly hope she gets her wits about herself and sees what's in front of her eyes. I've never seen a man speak her own _language_ , let alone match her snark," Gale smirked watching Peeta's mouth fall open in disbelief, "You fluster her, and that alone is enough for me!"

 

"I fluster her? How is that a positive thing?" Peeta's voice came out weakly and a little whiny.

 

"Oh, good old Katniss needs to be taken down a peg. I'm rooting for you, my lord. You'd be good for Catnip."

 

"Catnip? Is that a..."

 

"It's what I used to call her when I was in the military, and it was still alright to be familiar with her. She used to be my best friend. My only friend, really. Now she's my master's daughter, but I still feel protective of her,"

 

"Understandable,"

 

"Is it?" Gale arched his eyebrow, and looked Peeta directly in the eyes.

 

Peeta nodded firmly, not shying away from the other man's scrutiny. "Of course it is. Loyalty is a great thing, Mister Hawthorne. So is friendship. Loyalty, laced with friendship, it's an unbreakable bond. I'm glad for her, to have someone like you on her side."

 

"Well, I just hope she knows how much people really care for her,"

 

"So do I," agreed Peeta, committing the new information he just heard about Katniss Everdeen to his long term memory. After a moment, he turned to stare at Gale, grimacing and wide eyed, " _Anyone_ can see?" He asked, of what Gale had said about his admiration for Katniss.

 

Gale laughed, a real laugh, usually reserved only for his family's ears, and patted Peeta in the back, as if they had been best mates all of their lives.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meanwhile, out in the edible garden, Katniss walked as fast as her very long skirts allowed. The ground was already starting to dry up, a sure sign of the bitter days ahead, when winter would finally choke the life out of the last of the plants in the garden.

 

Katniss had visited the Snow family mansion, many, many years previously.

 

Crusty old Coriolanus Snow, Duke of Capitolham, had an obsessive fondness for roses. He had all varieties, and the blooms would grow in a large array of colors, each one more exquisite than the last. The pride and joy of the old Duke, was the imposing greenhouse, just beyond the grounds of the mansion, and nearly as big as Twelveton's main floor. The only thing growing in there, were roses.

 

Katniss found the sheer amount of the white blooms peculiar. The man was clearly fixated on the white flowers, and his comment of "Nothing says perfection, as white!" further reinforced the notion to the young lady.

 

At the time, Katniss had found it fastidious to listen to the old man go on and on, explaining the process of planting the young bushes at certain intervals, so they bloom all year 'round, and seeing as there were expected to be roses even during the harsher months of winter, he had built the grand greenhouse, so his beloved plants would thrive even at odd months.

 

Katniss wrapped her arms tightly around herself, in an effort to fend off the chilly wind that had picked up. As she trudged along the rows of dying greens, she thought: ' _Father should build a greenhouse. If only for the edible garden. Get some real use out of such a structure!'_ Her mind visiting the vast collection of year 'round blossoms that only serve as the bragging rights of an old man.

 

She finally spotted Mrs. Sae and Rue picking through the browning limbs of thyme plants. Rue's apron was already carefully filled with sprigs of rosemary and at her feet sat a basket of assorted fall vegetables; probably the last batch of the year.

 

Another gust of chilly air rushed around Katniss' already shivering, petite body and she cursed her rashness in running out of the house without a proper coat... or even a shawl, to cover her shoulders. She simply tightened her arms around herself and hurried her step, to meet the Cook and her assistant.

 

Rue saw her first, and smiled broadly at her in welcome. "Lady Katniss! I was afraid we wouldn't be seeing you today!" She said jumping forward to meet the lady.

 

"Good afternoon Miss Rue! I've been holed up with the other Ladies upstairs, but believe me, I'd much rather be with you two!" Katniss grinned happily at the kitchen maid. Rue was arguably her favorite maid, without counting Madge.

 

"Rue!" Barked Sae swatting the girl's arm, just managing to brush the tip of her dirt covered fingers against Rue's elbow.

 

"I'm sorry" the younger girl apologized, "I was just glad to see the lady!"

 

"As am I, but look at you dear! You're trembling worse than a leaf. Better get you inside where it is warm, let Old Greasy Sae fix you a nice cuppa," said the older woman dropping the miscellaneous greens into a basket, wiping her hands as best she could before draping her yellowing, thick shawl around Katniss's shoulders.

 

The similarities between this act of protection, and that of Madge's all those months ago, was not lost on Katniss. In fact, she now associated the kindness of someone covering her body with their own clothing items, while themselves going without, as an act of love and respect; whether she deserved the affection was up for debate, but with such a simple gesture, she knew she could trust the two women.

 

Sae patted Katniss' cheek affectionately when the girl gave her a faint smile, "Let's get you warmed up, child." Bending at her waist, Sae picked up one basket, whilst Rue arranged the vegetables in a pile in the other basket before lifting it up.

 

The three of them walked silently toward the kitchens, Katniss pulling the borrowed shawl more securely around her slim frame all the while. Once they reached the open gate, Katniss saw Sae stiffen and stop just a few steps shy of the doorway. The older woman turned around, finding Rue with her tiresome dark eyes, she muttered:

 

"Rue, go inside and make sure we're alone, won't ya?"

 

Rue nodded dutifully, heaving her basket of vittles and stepping around Katniss and Sae into the kitchen, and out of sight.

 

Katniss peeked around Sae curiously, trying to make sense of why in the world the old cook would need Rue to check the kitchens were deserted. It reminded her of her previous anxiousness and shook her head to prevent the feeling from returning.

 

"Why won't we go in already? It's not like the staff hasn't seen me round. If you're trying to save me any awkwardness, then you're losing your time, Mrs. Sae, I'm perfectly fine showing my face down here. There's no shame in being friendly with you, or anybody else who works for my father," Katniss' voice was very business like, even a bit haughty as well.

 

Sae, who had been looking at the doorway the whole time with an expression of weariness, seemed a bit taken aback by the lady's affirmation. She looked at the young woman for a moment and then slowly shook her head. After another moment or two, she reluctantly said the reason behind her odd behavior.

 

"Oh no, my lady! It isn't that, although I do appreciate the sweet sentiment." The cook patted Katniss' hand peeking from under the shawl, and smiled at her softly, then returned her gaze back to the door in anticipation.

 

Katniss' brow furrowed, "Then, what is it?" She asked confusedly. "I thought you wanted to get me inside to warm up," she said challenging.

 

"What?" The old woman asked distractedly, before tearing her eyes from the entrance and looking to the lady, confusion covering Sae's face.

 

"Why are we waiting out here? We could've been inside, sitting next to the lit hearth by now, if you hadn't stalled us," Katniss arched her eyebrow questioning.

 

Sae hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond, finally deciding honesty was far better than trying to keep her discomfort hidden. Whatever Mr. Boggs said, the kitchen was Sea's domain and heir or not, the Mellark Boy was intruding in her territory.

 

"Lord Mellark decided he wanted to inspect my stores. I'm not sure why, nor what purpose would it serve, poking around my well stocked pantry. All I know, is that I don't want to be in there, while there's people perusing and judging my food." The old woman's bluish-gray eyes were weary and a bit defiant.

 

"Oh, so that's what he was doing, then?" Muttered Katniss almost to herself. Her lips forming a scowl. She had been puzzling over what on earth Peeta Mellark would want with Twelveton's kitchen, when Rue finally came back and beckoned them inside.

 

"The coast is clear. No one in sight and the kettle is already on the stove!" Said Rue with a smile as big and wide as the relief reflected on Sae's face.

 

Once inside, the cook went about fetching scones and tiny cakes, placing them in front of Katniss, while the lady sat on the staff table, closest to the fireplace. That small venture to the gardens, had chilled her to the bone and even nursing a piping hot cup of tea in her hands, she still clung to Sae's shawl like a security blanket. Gratefully, her stomach had finally settled and she was actually feeling a little peckish.

 

It wasn't five minutes of frantic checking about the kitchen and pantry, when Sae finally came to sit for a moment. She looked exhausted but also relieved.

 

"Everything alright?" Asked Katniss hiding her smirk behind her tea cup.

 

Sae's eyes jumped to her's almost in alarm, which made Katniss laugh.

 

"It's alright you know, you can tell me. I won't reprimand you for voicing your discomfort," the young lady was openly smiling now, reaching a hand across the table to squeezed Sae's roughened one.

 

The old woman was still weary but smiled back just the same. Sighing, she began, "I don't mean to sound disrespectful, my dear child, but... I have always prided myself on being a well organized cook. I keep the best produce, meats, and other vittles in my stores. I preserve my own vegetables and fruits. I salt my own fish, I keep with the best ingredients around town. Even during the harshest winters, we have the best quality pickled and preserved vegetables and fruits in the vicinity... you know people come from all over the place to buy my preserves? We only keep a fraction of what I canned during the year, and sell the rest to the tenants at discounted prices!" The old woman exclaimed. Katniss didn’t necessarily know about that, but she wasn't surprised at all. She knew her family was more than generous to their people, always providing when possible.

 

"It just feels a bit insulting for some outsider, to come into my kitchen questioning my choices," continued Sae, relaxing as she let out her burdens. "I know the young man is to inherit Twelveton someday, but this is still your mother's personal responsibility. I only answer to the Lady Panemshire, and she's never found fault with me, or my stocks. I'm not keen on hearing anything from anyone else!"

 

"I understand," said Katniss, smiling softly and squeezing the old cook's hand once more. "Was everything in it's place? As far as you could see, I mean," she asked benignly, patting Sae's hand and returning to sip on her beverage.

 

"Yes. Everything is in perfect order, just as I left it. Except for the sack of flour. For some reason it was moved from the back of the room, to the front, and the mouth of the sack had been sealed back. I guess he opened it, to look at the flour," Sae said pensive.

 

Katniss rolled her eyes, knowing full well Sae wouldn't tell her off for her childish behavior or lack of manners. That's why Katniss liked it in the kitchens, none of the workers down there cared if she was acting properly or like a misbehaving heathen.

 

"Well, Lord Mellark used to be a baker. Maybe he has actually found fault with your bread? The nerve of that man!" Exclaimed Katniss feeling offended on Sae's behalf, "Do not worry yourself, my dear Sae, I will see to it that Father tells the _new lord_ , to stuff it!"

 

The boastful tone of Katniss exclamation, made Sae break into a deep, long laugh. Rue, who had been chopping ingredients away the whole time at the prepping table, looked back to her boss, and smiling wryly, shook her head, causing all the dark curls of her hair to bounce under her white cap. Catching Katniss' eye, the lady shrugged and the kitchen maid went back to her task, as Katniss plucked a doughy piece of cake from the plate.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Twelveton Abbey's grounds and kitchens, last week of November, 1912**

 

 

It had been close to three weeks since Katniss had felt purposeful enough to rise before dawn, and run to the woods beyond Twelveton, in order to hunt. She knew she only had so much time, before the wintry weather finally settled, covering everything in snow and then she'd be forced to wait for spring before she could forage in the woods on her own.

 

It wasn't that she was not allowed to hunt during winter, it was that her father insisted she had a chaperone, ' _guardian_ ' he called them. The problem with a guard was, usually her companions were loud and graceless, ruining her already slim chances of catching anything at all. No. There was only one person she would even consider accompanying her out into the wild to hunt, but then the last conversation she had with _him_ as _equals_ , reminded her she had no business being friendly with the man now serving her father.

 

She still mourned the loss of their friendship, but she would never condone the way his inventions were being used by the military, and he would never do anything to stop them from exploiting his inventions. Hence she decided to give up the argument, and pretend her friend wasn't a mastermind trapper, that could kill enemy soldiers during a war as easily as deer for sport.

 

After only a moment of calculations, she was off, bow in hand and quiver full of pointy arrows strapped to her back. She had donned a pair of thick trousers, a comfortable blouse, and leather coat, lined with soft, warm wool that belonged to her father in his youth. The coat was almost too warm for the trek, but it was large and spacious, allowing her to move comfortably. The coat had the added bonus, that it still smelled like her 'Papa', even after all those years. She loved the coat.

 

The morning had proven her right, when upon entering her hunting grounds she found a small flock of pheasants, meandering at the edge of the woods. The birds had been especially brought to Twelveton as game and they discovered, it was a delicious treat, but since the birds were not native to the forest, they needed time to reproduce, making them sparingly available for hunting, to sustain the flock. It had been a long time, since the Everdeen's table had been graced with pheasant.

 

Katniss dutifully counted the birds walking by, and a wide smile took over her cheeks; slowly, she nocked her arrow and took aim at one that looked just about the right age to be hunted. She shot it through the neck, and quickly reloaded her bow and shot again before the band dispersed in terror. The young woman jumped up and down in place in celebration of her kills, a Primrose-worthy reaction, but she was alone in the woods, so she care not if she was acting immaturely.

 

She rushed to collect her prizes: two plump, adolescent pheasants, with their red feathered heads and dark ring around their necks. She was elated by her clean shots; the birds never knew they had been hit before they fell lifeless to the ground.

 

She could have returned to the kitchens then, to drop off her game and go on to wash off and change into more appropriate attire for breakfast, however, the sun was still a long time down and the weakened moonlight shone just right, allowing her visibility into the deeper parts of the forest. She tied the birds to her belt by their feet, and pushed on, trying for a third pheasant if possible, as there were _guests_ to feed after all.

 

She was rewarded with two fat hares instead. She picked up her spoils, and finally left the grounds.

 

She was in great spirits, whistling long forgotten songs with the songbirds that still remained in Twelveton, and soon she was singing herself, walking with ease and comfort, as the newly awaken tendrils of sunshine spread over the hardening dirt beneath her feet, bringing life and color to the dormant world.

 

In the distance, the light of warm fires beckoned her through the kitchen windows, cheery and already bustling with activity. In her mind, she could smell the distinct aroma of coffee beans being boiled for her father's cup, before the rest of the household woke to join his table for breakfast. She felt excited, happier than she'd been in a long time and before she knew it, she was jogging toward the inviting smells of sizzling bacon and the savory aroma of those new cheesy buns she had been growing so fond of the past few days.

 

On the first day she tasted them, she rushed into the kitchen to announce to Sae, cheesebuns were her favorite type of bread, and so she expected them in the pastry baskets every morning! Sae had looked taken aback by it, she even tried to say something, but some new kitchen maid had spilt soapy water all over the floors and Sae almost had a stroke, as she screamed at the top of her lungs for the poor maid to clean up the mess. Katniss left before the cook could finish saying whatever she was trying to tell her. It didn't matter, the buns kept showing up in the bread baskets every morning and Katniss kept on inhaling them with relish.

 

When Katniss finally plowed in through the wide open doors, there was laughter and much merriment, in the confines of the already hot kitchen; she was ready to join in the lively tune of the cooking staff.

 

With a smile bright as the rising sun, she called out to Mrs. Sae and Rue, already pulling on the ties that held the pheasants feet attached to her hunting belt. Speaking a mile a second. In her joyous state, she hadn't noticed the noises subsiding around her.

 

"Mrs. Sae! Rue! this has been a most bountiful morning out in the woods! Come see what I've got!" Her voice was excited and eager as she untied the first of the birds and held it up high for the whole kitchen to see, "Pheasants! I've got us pheasants for supp..." she stopped her animated monologue abruptly, the words trailing away on her lips, as a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen, met hers and stared back dazedly.

 

Her cheeks were rosy-red from exertion and several tendrils of raven colored hair fell from her lose braid. A slight sheen of sweat covered her forehead and part of her upper lip; there was a smudge of dirt on the side of her right temple, presumably from where she had tried to wipe off some of the sweat. Her clothes were a bit big on her, or at least the jacket that reached almost to her knees was, and although her smile that illuminated the entire Abbey had fallen from her lips, replaced by a look of utter confusion, there had never been anything more beautiful to Peeta's eyes, than Katniss Everdeen, after a morning of hunting in the woods.

 

"How wonderful my lady!" Cried out Sae loudly, "Rue, come help the lady with her game, child!"

 

Rue dropped the rag she had been using to clean up the surface of the prep table, and promptly approached a still stunned Katniss, to relieve her of her burden.

 

"May I take this, my lady?" Asked Rue softly, pulling gently on the pheasant Katniss still held askew in her hand. It had lost the proud height it had been held at, but it was still visible to all.

 

As if dreaming, Katniss let go of her prize and seeing as she was no longer going to be any help, Rue continued to pull on the cords keeping the other animals in place. Rue was quickly joined by Madge, who solicitously unbuckled the hunting belt from around Katniss' hips and handed it over to Rue, who took it gratefully, bring it to a different table to start cleaning the game.

 

"Come my lady, sit and drink some warm milk. It'll warm you up right away," whispered Madge in a motherly fashion.

 

Katniss followed, like a docile toddler and sat on a stool, waiting for her drink, while her eyes kept flitting all around the kitchen, taking great care to avoid those blue eyes that had rendered her useless.

 

"Is my Lord's dough ready to shape?" Asked Sae with a tinge of concern in her voice.

 

Katniss finally allowed herself to look back at Peeta, noticing a whole lot of things in her short glance. The first thing being his blonde curls, falling across his forehead in a disheveled mess, stopping short of his eyebrows. She had never known how long his hair was, as it was always slicked back, and closed to his head on the occasions they had seen each other in the weeks since his arrival. She noticed as well, his hair seemed lighter that way.

 

The next thing she observed, was that he has wearing a simple fitted, cotton, button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled all the way up between his biceps and his elbow, revealing muscular forearms, covered in white flour, ending on thick fingers, sticky with dough. A second, quicker glance, told her his shoulders were even broader and more muscular than his perfectly tailored suit jackets let on. She felt her cheeks warm up and in her flustered state, she rubbed her eyes roughly.

 

But what made her look a third time, was the goofy expression of elation in his slackened face. It looked both content and dreamy and his eyes were trained on her for the most part, until she looked back, then he would pretend he wasn't looking right at her.

 

Katniss wasn't completely sure if she should feel delighted that she was affecting him the same way he affected her, or if she should run for the hills for even entertaining the notion of feeling delighted, because the poor boy seemed like he had been hit over the head with a blunt object, just because she entered the same room he was in.

 

Something was clear to her, Peeta Mellark seemed to not really notice how he looked at her, while she was all too aware. It all spelled trouble in Katniss' mind.

 

It took another prodding from Sae, to snap Peeta out of his trance. He shook his head to dispatch the fog that had taken over his mind and then regarded the old cook with a handsome smile, that made Katniss' heart stutter.

 

"I'm sorry, yes, the dough is ready to be portioned and shaped into loaves. Thank you, Mrs. Sae. You truly are the best supervisor I've ever had the pleasure to work for!" He said jovially. Then as if Katniss' heart and lungs hadn't been abused enough, the bastard threw a wink on her direction, when the old woman playfully slapped his very well defined arm.

 

He probably wasn't aware of his own infatuated looks, but it was clear he knew damned well how to push Katniss' buttons.

 

"You're a charming scoundrel, my boy... Er... my Lord!" Cackled Sae, and quickly sobered up at the slip of her words.

 

She looked at Katniss, but the damage was done. The young lady had heard, and seen the camaraderie between the two and the fire in her eyes reflected her betrayal and contempt.

 

Peeta, seemed to catch on to that and sobered up as well.

 

"Good morning, my Lady..."

 

" _Cousin_ Katniss, please," she interrupted his greeting, icily, "there's no need for formalities in this kitchen, as far as I'm concerned," she eyed Sae quickly, before looking into her cup of frothy, warm milk and sipping from it.

 

Peeta made a noise of acknowledgement at the back of his throat, he sounded almost annoyed, when he continued, "Of course, how stupid of me to forget,"

 

Katniss shrugged, not even returning his gaze.

 

"So, I see your morning has been as eventful as mine. I had no idea you went out to hunt on your own, so early in the mornings," he said a bit more bitingly than he expected. He couldn't help it, the woman was impossible to please. She was exasperating.

 

"It also seems, both our secret morning activities have left us messy, and not very presentable for breakfast with the rest of the family," she responded flatly, standing up and finishing the last dregs of her milk like a commoner. "I must take my leave to tidy up. See you at the table, _cousin_ Peeta," she slammed the mug onto the table and stomped passed him, not bothering to look at him, or acknowledge anyone else around them except for Madge, "would you be so kind to accompany and assist me?"

 

Madge nodded silently, and followed her mistress a pace or two behind. The maid sneaked a glance to Mister Hawthorne, who had just recently entered the kitchen carrying the tray with the Earl's used coffee service. He had only heard the tail end of the snarky conversation between Katniss and Peeta, and his eyebrow was raised when Madge nudged her head in Peeta's direction.

 

Gale turned to see Peeta's newly formed scowl, covering his usually joyful face. He sighed deeply. Getting those two together was proving to be a more difficult task than he had anticipated. The Earl was _not_ going to be very happy to hear this latest development, but at the moment, cheering Peeta up seemed like a more pressing matter.

 

"Is she always so... _disagreeable_?" The young master asked under his breath, as he pummeled the dough in front him with great aggression.

 

Gale wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical or even if he was meant to have heard it at all.

 

"When she came running through those doors, she was happy as Larry! So beautiful and full of life and wonder! The little girl I fell in lov..." He sucked up a shaky breath, and screwed his eyes shut for a moment, before exhaling his mouthful of air, he spoke more calmly, "The little girl I _met_ , all those years ago was shining through, but as soon as she saw me..." He choked the last of his sentence back, landing a fist into the dough that was at risk of being over-kneaded by then. "Then, she opened her pretty little mouth and everything was foul!"

 

His voice was so high, the rest of the kitchen turned to gawk at him, but one look from Gale's piercing gray eyes sent everyone right back to their own chores, feigning ignorance of the young baker taking his frustration out on his work.

 

"How about we give this batch of dough to Sae for baking, my lord?" Asked Gale softly.

 

Peeta's shoulders sagged in defeat, passing the ball of dough to the valet, who in turned passed it to Rue, who took it to the bread pans.

 

"She wasn't foul," said Peeta sadly, tears prickling his eyes. "I know foul, and she wasn't even close to it. She just... _Infuriates me_!" He turned those sorrowful eyes to find Gale looking at him with sympathy. "I just wish I knew what have I done so awful, to deserve her scorn? Maybe then I wouldn't feel like drowning, every time she looks at me like am the bane of her existence,"

 

Gale took a deep breath and released the air through his flared nose slowly. "Come on, my Lord. I will assist you today in getting ready for breakfast." Peeta hung his head for a moment and then sucking a cleansing breath, balled up his apro, and tossed it into the laundry basket at the end of the table.

 

"Fine," he said, then turning around, found Sae's sad eyes, "I'll see you tomorrow, queen of the cooks!" He smiled at the woman faintly and she returned a loving smile his way, stepping close to him, she patted his cheek.

 

"For what is worth, m'boy, that girl couldn't take her eyes off you since she came in that door. She'll come around, she's just scared," she took his hand, patted it and kissed his knuckles as a grandmother would a favorite grandchild. Peeta smiled for real that time, giving the old cook a bear hug. "Now go on, go get pretty for our girl!"

 

He left the kitchen with a chuckle.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Are you going to scold me for my abrasive attitude towards Peeta?" Katniss asked Madge out of the blue, as the maid brushed her hair meticulously.

 

Madge met Katniss' gaze through the mirror of the vanity and sighed.

 

They had reached a comfortable place, in which Katniss allowed Madge talk to her as an equal, but Madge only did so, on occasions that absolutely called for it.

 

"No, my Lady," she said shaking her head and plating the lady's dark tresses into her usual, simple braid.

 

"Well... are you going to tell me how Sae and _him,_ became so chummy?" She asked with and edge of irritation.

 

Madge cocked her head and made a gesture with her shoulders, signifying 'are we really doing this right now?', to which Katniss only responded with a pointed, "Well?"

 

Madge took a long breath, "He's a very nice person, you know. You'd be surprised how easy it is to converse with him, if only you give him a chance."

 

"How did he win her over?" Katniss asked feigning disinterest, that Madge read straight through, "Last thing I remember, Sae was cursing the day Peeta Mellark asked to see her stores, and now she is all... flirty with him," she spat, using way more force to open her small jar of lip gloss than was necessary.

 

" _Flirting?_ " Repeated Madge in surprise, stopping dead to look at her mistress in the eye, to make sure she heard her right. But one look at how flustered and out of sorts the lady was, made her smile knowingly so she lowered her head before Katniss could see. "I doubt it's flirting, as much as it is good old charm and unabashed adulation," this time, Madge couldn’t help the small giggled that escaped her mouth. "You know how Mrs. Sae thrives on obsequious flattery and if there is something Lord Mellark excels at, is keeping that woman's ego as big as her soup cauldrons."

 

"So... hes just being gratuitously flattering? What is his angle? Why try to manipulate the cook?" Then her eyes widened in sheer terror, "Is he planning to poison us?"

 

Fast as lightning, Madge dropped to her knees in front of Katniss and held her face in her hands. With a practiced soothing voice, she repeated over and over to her, "Calm down, breathe. Repeat the words to me, my lady, I need to hear you say it!"

 

Like a small child, breathing hard and fast, edging a panic attack, Katniss started to breathe through her mouth, until she was able to say the mantra Madge was asking for.

 

"My name is Katniss Everdeen, I'm nineteen years old, my home is Twelveton Abbey, I'm a survivor, I'm a fighter, I'm brave, I'm calmed."

 

Madge sat there with her and waited until Katniss' frantic chant slowly petered out, into a barely audible mumble. Once she was sure the attack had passed, and Katniss was functional enough to be reasoned with again, she held her chin in her hand, forcing the younger girl to look straight into her dark blue eyes.

 

"Katniss, I want you to listen to me and listen to me carefully," she waited until Katniss nodded her assent, "Peeta doesn't have ulterior motives to help in the kitchen. He's a baker. He's been feeling like he has no place in life anymore, he feels useless and unwanted. He feels like nobody needs him, and on top of all that, he's under the impression that you hate and resent him,"

 

Katniss' baleful eyes stared right at Madge, "How do you know all that?" She asked quietly.

 

"Let's just say, that Mister Hawthorne has gotten close with him. They talk. A lot."

 

"Oh," said Katniss taking a moment to think. "And then... Gale tells you?" Madge nodded. "Does he do it between stolen kisses, or during your romantic walks under the full moon?"

 

Madge rolled her pretty blue eyes and let go of Katniss' face. "Since I see you're capable of teasing, then I'm sure you'll be capable to hold yourself together for this meal," the maid said, standing up and giving Katniss and playfully disapproving stare.

 

Katniss giggled.

 

"Seriously, Katniss, Lord Mellark is a good man. He won Sae over, because of his honest, humble demeanor. He apologized to her, as soon as he realized how much stress he had caused her, and told her it was not his intent. That if he had known, he would've asked her permission first. It wasn't just empty praises of her well driven kitchen and staff that did her in," Madge smiled, "He is genuinely nice, very polite, caring, respectful, and a very good baker... plus, you are Sae's Achilles heel you know and he just... it should be no secret, even to you, he adores you, there's no disguising the fact, half the household knows it."

 

Katniss sighed. "I... I know." She bit her lip for a moment, then looked at her friend with pleading eyes, "What should I do, you know I'm no good for him. I'm no good for any man,"

 

"Oh, my dear Katniss, you don't know that. You will never know that, if you don't give him a chance,"

 

Katniss nodded her understanding and stood up from her chair, ready to go downstairs, to face her day, and Peeta Mellark. "I still maintain that no man can be that perfect!" Katniss stated smoothing down her dress with the back of her hand. Madge passed her a handkerchief, that she promptly tucked in her fist and Madge found her gray eyes.

 

The blue sparkling with mirth, as she said, "Oh, Peeta Mellark is not perfect by any means, my Lady. He's got a horrid mother, is pining after this obtuse socialite, and I have it on good authority, that he sings like a crow being tortured."

 

Both girls laughed and giggled all the way to the terrace, where breakfast was to be served that morning. To Peeta's surprise, Katniss smiled at him genuinely, for the very first time since his arrival, and offered him an olive branch.

 

"So, cousin Peeta, am I about to discover, that you, are the genius, behind these delightful cheese buns?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Theseus and the Minotaur:** this whole scene at dinner, is taken pretty much straight from DA, although, there are some markedly changes to adapt both works. For one, Mary Crawly uses the myth of Perseus and the sea monster, to insult Matthew, whereas Katniss goes with Theseus and the Minotaur, which I chose purposely, because Suzanne Collins has said a few times that Katniss' character in 'The Hunger Games' was based of Theseus, she went as far as calling her work a modern tale of Theseus' myth. As usual, no good hero is without flaw in Greek mythology, so the Minotaur story fit quite right for this scene. Note that there **are** direct quotes from Mary Crawly into Katniss' speech in that particular scene. I hope Peeta held his own as good as Matthew did ;)


	4. 1913 (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the Hunger Games or Downton Abbey
> 
> I can't believe it's been over a year since I've updated this story, I apologize for those who have so kindly waited all this time, I hope to update soon again. Life is crazy, and I have an 11 day old baby on my chest right now, so I'm taking it easy, and hopefully getting back to a writing schedule. Thank you for your understanding and support. 
> 
> I would like to apologize for this chapter being cut in two parts, but it was that, or not updating for a few more months... hopefully it's still a good read. 
> 
> Thanks to Shellibug for reading this over and make the proper corrections, thank you for checking on me and keeping me honest with work, this chapter is for you! 
> 
> Thanks also to Otrascosasseries for the beautiful art banner, I can't tell you how much I still love it. 
> 
> A now, enjoy!

 

**January, 1913. London.**

 

The gloomy, gray sky above had no effect on bright-eyed Primrose, as she sat in the family car with her nose pressed against the window drinking in the sights of London's main streets.

Aunt Effie happened to look up from her knitting and rolled her eyes at the youngest Everdeen's eagerness.

"Primrose dear, do sit back. It is not a very dignify sight, that a lady of your station act like an overexcited farm girl on her first visit to civilization!" The Dowager reprimanded curtly. "You should learn poise from your sister."

Katniss clenched her eyes tightly shut, and wondered, not for the first time, why people must insist on making comparisons between her and her sister. Didn't they realize this only increased Primrose's growing frustration, thus causing a breach between the both of them?

"Poise? Why she's been a proper bore since we left Twelveton! Her eyes glued to that book of hers. She's missing London." Prim countered, earning a disapproving warning from her mother.

"Primrose. Remember yourself, child."

Katniss lifted her gray eyes to her mother in a silent plea to diffuse the unnecessary animosity Effie's careless words was creating. Lily didn't disappoint.

"Although, my lady, I don't see any harm in letting Primrose enjoy the sights. After all, we did drag Katniss with us, when she clearly stated she preferred staying home, while Prim was more than agreeable to come on this trip."

"Nonsense! The two girls are in dire need of a new formal wardrobe. Everyone has gained an awful amount of weight since that boy started baking everyday!" Barked Effie.

Katniss scowled. Snapping shut her book and rudely asked her aunt, "You disapprove of it? Of cousin Peeta baking?" She stared at Effie still scowling, while her mother cleared her throat in another warning.

"I don't think is appropriate for your father's heir, to be laboring downstairs with the help, like a simple commoner," the older woman said, "that's all."

"But, that's what makes him happy! It's his way to unwind. This sudden appointment has practically taken him from everything he's ever known, what makes him comfortable--"

Effie cackled, interrupting Katniss' earnest argument in defense of Peeta.

"And he was comfortable being a baker? Oh my! Are you saying that young master Mellark has no aspirations? Because I can tell you, his mother is got enough for the both of them,"

The condescension in her aunt's response made Katniss' anger flare, but before she could come up with a clever counter, their car came to a screeching stop that sent them all forward.

Once they were back in their seats, Effie tapped the separation glass between their cabin and the driver seat.

"What is going on?" She demanded as soon as the driver opened the partition for her.

"Suffrage protesters, m'lady." The man said, "Blocking the road and passing out leaflets it seems."

Effie made a noise, checking a small golden clock she pulled out of her hand bag.

"What a bother! These silly women will make us late for our meeting with the clothiers!"

"What is it?" Said Prim pressing her face to her window trying to get a better glimpse of the protesters.

Women of every age and a few men, littered the street, holding signs and banners. To Prim's annoyance she couldn't read any of them.

"Child, sit back! It is not of your concern what those women are doing! It's poppycock in my opinion, and you should stay away from them, uphold your manners and good costumes, as any lady who knows her place should!" With the momentum of her outburst, Effie rapped on the partition again and demanded angrily to the driver, "Can you do nothing about this? It's unacceptable! Do something!"

The man simply faced forward, and honked the horn loudly, until the crowd parted for the vehicle to pass through.

"Support the female vote!" A woman shouted, while shoving and sticking leaflets in every nook and cranny of the car's body she could reach. "Women deserve to have a say in how our government is elected! We are part of the people as well!"

Prim's blue eyes were wide, curious and full of awe as she saw women being shoved away by a couple of policemen that came out of nowhere to clear the roads. Prim kept turning her head this way and that watching the suffragettes at work - the sights of London forgotten- she was now enthralled by something she didn't quite understand, but looked perfectly appealing to her.

When they arrived to their destination, the driver promptly hopped out of his seat and opened the car door to help the ladies out, while a representative of the clothier welcomed them warmly.

Effie dispensed apologies for their tardiness - citing the obstruction caused by silly women trying to usurp man's lawful duties and rights! It didn't seem to matter to the people at the shop who seemed relieved to have customers at all.

The countess and her two daughters vacated the car daintily, holding onto the driver's outstretched hand. But when it was Prim's turn, she was surprised to see the man's slight smile, returning it gratefully, which prompted an unabashed response from the driver: a quick wink, of the brightest brown eyes she'd ever saw.

"Thank you, Thomas. We won't be a half hour if I can help it," Lady Everdeen said causing the two to straighten their faces into propriety.

Thomas, the driver, nodded curtly and stepped back, closing the door after Prim had safely climbed the pavement. He had started picking up the debris of suffragette propaganda the car had been swamped with, when Effie turned to introduce her family to their host, but she was momentarily distracted, a small scowl settling on her face before she harshly called the driver's attention.

"Do dispose of this detritus! I cannot think of anything more embarrassing than for our peers to think we support that suffragette foolery!" The dowager turned on her heel and plowed into the storefront.

The Countess took a deep breath and gave Thomas an apologetic half smile, but the driver didn't seem particularly perturbed by the Dowager's outburst. He only proceeded to pluck the flyers one by one, smoothing them over while the Everdeen women followed after their aunt inside the shop.

Moved by sympathy for their employee- or at least that's what she told herself- Prim, stayed in the rear, looking back at Thomas curiously. She was surprised to see the man sneaking a small pile of flyers into his coat pocket.

Nonchalantly, Thomas rounded the car to make sure he hadn't miss anything and then slid behind the wheel, as if he hadn't just deliberately saved what his employer just ordered him to discard.

"Primrose," called the Countess after a second, prompting her to scurry into the store, not before sneaking a glance or two at the curious chauffeur.

 

* * *

 

 **March, 1913. Twelveton Abbey**.

The gaudily ornate grandfather clock Winifred had insisted on buying for Mellark House, rang noisily, announcing 15 minutes until 1800.

Peeta rushed into the sitting room, Mr Chaff easily following his fast, long strides, collecting a hat, gloves and overcoat his master shed on route to the dining room where his mother would no doubt be furiously awaiting his arrival.

But no sooner had Peeta stepped foot into the dining room, he frowned in surprise. His mother sat alone at the table, occupying his chair as head of the family, as defined by the rigid customs of high society. Peeta wasn't particularly taken with the protocols his new station entailed, but he was adamant he'd learn and follow every nuisance like a stickler, if it meant he'd fit in with the Everdeen's way of life.

"Mother," he greeted curtly. "I hope you're enjoying supper, which you seemed to have started without me." His tone was hard and unyielding.

Winifred looked up half bothered, half surprised to see him there. Her clear blue eyes showed an edge of irritation.

"Well, you were out touring the ancient churches with the Everdeen girl, I thought you'd enchant a dinner invitation out of your 'cousin', since she's been so... attentive since our arrival?" She lifted her wine glass to her ruby red lips to sip with an air of indifference. "I suppose I was wrong in my assumption." Taking a very unladylike gulp of her wine she added under her breath, "I suppose we can't expect you to secure yourself an Everdeen wife after all, so why bother."

While his mother had been talking, a few servers had approached, looking confused and mortified at the sudden presence of their master and the terrible mistake they made by sitting the wrong person in his place. He was about to wave them away, instructing Mister Chaff- who currently played every role in the household from footman to butler and everything in between- to serve him a platter and bring it up to his rooms, but hearing his mother's venomous words fall so easily from her bifurcated tongue, he decided against it, and did something so drastic that it later cost him sleep.

"Should I remind you mother, that I, am Lord Panemshire's heir? I do not need to sneak my way into their house like a bloody rat looking for discarded morsels. They did, in fact, invite me to share their table this evening, but because I knew you were here alone, and I knew you'd be livid if I ate with the Earl and his family without you, I declined, like any good son would and rushed here to sit at our table together," his eyes narrowed at his mother who pursed her lips, no doubt preparing some scalding retort, but before she could speak, he arched his eyebrows, stood to his full height and firmly order his servants, "My mother has finished dining. Please see that she's comfortable in her rooms for the rest of the night. I'll take my supper in the study, with a large glass of the most expensive brandy we have in storage."

Winifred started spluttering and pawing at her unfinished dish as it was being lifted away from her by a maid, while another started collecting cups and silverware. Chaff made a little curtsy before grabbing the ornate chair back she was sitting in, to pull away from the table.

She finally screeched in outrage, ripping back the delicate bowl of bread from one of the server's hands "What do you think you're doing?"

"They are following my orders, Mother." Peeta said calmly, folding his arms behind his back casually. "They know their place as MY employees. I, know my place as Heir presumptive, and I won't pursue cousin Prim in marriage, regardless of her sweet disposition. Now, the question is, do you, Mother, know your place?"

Winifred's eyes bulged comically, she took a sharp breath, filling her lungs with rage and fire, but at Peeta's stony expression, the best she could do was grunt her ire wordlessly, while cradling the bowl of bread in the crook of her arm like a petulant brat. She stomped her way out of the dining room and up the staircase.

When the clicking of her shoes was only faintly heard, Peeta relaxed his posture and released a heavy breath. Chaff was behind him with a chair at the ready, where Peeta simply collapsed. He rubbed his face harshly and propped his elbows on his knees, burying his face into the cup of his palms.

"Is my lord alright?" Asked Chaff.

Peeta straightened up rapidly, sighing harshly. He looked at Chaff, who had dismissed the rest of the staff back to the kitchens. There was a barely veiled tinge of concern in Chaff's usually unreadable countenance.

"Did I... overstep?" Peeta asked in a ragged breath. "I mean, I've never spoken to my mother... or anyone for that matter, with such lack of regard." He ran his thick fingers through his hair, messing the curls he had spent so much time trying to tame into a respectable style. His eyes pleaded with the man that had quickly gained his trust with his sound advice and encouraging guidance.

"If my Lord really wants to hear my humble opinion," Chaff answered in his slow cadence, "he defended his position, and his cousin's benevolence, while educating the mistress in a firm but fair manner." The man paused a moment, looking for the right words, "Probably tomorrow, his lordship should appease his mother by promising... to always send word about his dining plans beforehand? This awkward situation could be avoided in the future with simple communication."

Peeta sighed. "That's brilliant thinking, Mister Chaff. Wish I'd thought of my words before I let them loose, if only to save you the counsel, but..." Peeta dragged on.

"One can hardly fault a tired mind when is being baited, my lord. Perhaps, it's time for that glass of brandy?" Suggested Chaff stepping aside, giving Peeta room to stand and stretch.

"An even more splendid idea, Mister Chaff. Please, see that the kitchen staff don't strain too much over my dinner. I'll take it in my study if that's alright? I might as well start working on that proposal I'm to present to the Earl in the morning. There are numerous ways Twelveton could be modernised. I just hope he'll hear me this time."

Peeta had been trying to present ideas to George Everdeen, that would benefit the whole estate, but so far the man had been stubbornly reluctant to implement any suggestion brought to him.

Lately, Peeta had been trying to sell his cousin and benefactor the idea of irrigation systems for the gardens, an idea that although wasn't his originally, had his whole support. It had been Katniss, who mentioned the need for a more efficient way to water plants, not just in their gardens, but to the lands adjacent to Twelveton, where tenants grew crops in their farms. The fact that his affections for the eldest Everdeen daughter had only intensified in the last few months, after their truce, had not diminished the merits of her idea one bit.

Peeta had grown adept at compartmentalizing his emotions where Katniss was concerned, to the point he could control his feelings and not let them influence his rationale. It was just safer that way. He kept his vow to become her friend and get to know her, while she held her own end of the deal, by loosening up and accepting him in her life as a new fixture.

They had come to a comfortable friendship over the winter months. Even after Mellark House was completed and he and his mother relocated to their new abode, he came to Twelveton's kitchen every morning to make bread, and as the days warmed up, Katniss started to rouse earlier and earlier to venture into the woods. Before their days officially began, they would meet for a quick bite of freshly baked cheese bun, a hot cup of tea and an amicable chitchat.

Both looked forward to the encounters, even though Katniss tried to hide her delight at spending time with him, it was obvious to everyone watching them... except for Peeta himself, who was carefully hopeful, but wouldn't allow himself to get carried away.

Peeta headed to his study, loosening the knot of the tie he was practically obligated to wear everyday now, unbuttoning his vest and finally rolling up the cuffs of his shirt sleeves to his elbows. He was tired from a day walking around ancient churches, listening to Prim prattling about masonry and building techniques of the 17th century. As interesting as the whole thing was, and as important it was for him to get to know his surroundings and the people that would eventually be under his care as Earl, sometimes it took a toll on him, to do nothing, but act as if he was a simple tourist on holiday, visiting the countryside that bordered London's suburbs.

He knew he'd done right, when Prim's big blue eyes shone in excitement every time she showed him something she considered particularly interesting, so he smiled to himself, thinking how much he would've loved to have a little sister to spoil. It had been a good day, even if his feet were killing him.

 

* * *

 

Katniss entered the kitchen by her usual side door, this time drenched with rainwater and so muddy, she had to be hefting at least double her weight in muck.

"Heavens, child! Look at you!" Exclaimed Old Sae rushing towards her waving her arms manically. "Your mum would be so cross if she saw you like this, not to mention the Dowager! She'd be livid!"

"Oh, don't you fuss over me!" Katniss countered good naturedly, cheeks rosy and wet and panting with effort, her messy hair stuck to her face and neck like the long fingers of a deep rooted tree. "I couldn't be any happier!" She added exuberantly, a smile so broad and bright it gave the old cook some admiring pause.

"Is that so?" Asked Peeta's warm voice coming up to the women, a thick, wool blanket firmly held in his fists, that he placed over Katniss' shoulders in a fluid motion before she could object. "Do tell, m'lady, seeing you in such a jubilant mood, has piqued my curiosity, and let me be honest, it’s just eating at me!" he winked.

"If you must know, nosy lord, I've just felled a stag!" Her enthusiasm exuberant.

"A stag?" He repeated with an edge of admiration and awe. "How big? Where is it now?" He asked both in excitement and anticipation.

He had never really seen a deer before, not even a dead one.

"Oh it was big alright! Seven points I counted on his antlers. It's currently hanging precariously from a branch I was able to tie it to. I came here just to find a pair of strong arms and maybe a cart to haul my game back to the house." She said taking a steamy cup of tea from Rue, while Sae fussed over her dripping wet hair and clothes. "Is Mister Hawthorne around?" She asked hopefully.

"Hawthorne? Why the man is busy enough with the Earl, to also have to run out in this torrential weather to carry back a buck, I suggest you request someone else's assistance, cousin Katniss," Peeta said half chiding half amused.

"But, Ga-- Mister Hawthorne--"

"Just rushed a cup of coffee, to go ready himself to wake your father!" Interrupted Peeta smirking.

"Fine! Who then, do you suggest I take back into the woods to retrieve my kill?" Katniss asked mildly annoyed, tapping her muddied up boots of the stone floor splattering wet dirt everywhere.

"Why... me of course!" Said Peeta triumphantly.

"You?" Katniss looked at him through narrowed, dubious, gray eyes. "How do I know you won't flake off, or worse, faint, once you find yourself faced with the task of pulling a 150 pound deer carcass across the grounds? It won't be pretty, it might hurt the sensibilities of a city baker, such as yourself?" She mocked, still scowling and tapping her foot on the floor.

"Ah! I'm not as soft as I appear to be, my lady," he smiled widely, "once I had to chase, and kill a mouse, by repeatedly smacking it over the head with a broom. I tell you, I almost went to the taxidermist to have the thing's head stuffed and mounted!" He grinned as soon as a very loud, unladylike snort escaped Katniss, followed by an unrestrained fit of giggles from Rue and Sae.

Katniss was laughing so hard, she had to hold her ribs after a minute. "Fine, cousin Peeta, you and your macho prowess can come along. We just need some wheeled transport to put the stag on so we don't have to drag it by hand."

In a minute, Peeta had found a wheelbarrow from out in the yard, and ignoring the protests of Sae about wearing Wellington boots and a coat, he smiled cheekily at the cook, while running after Katniss under the fat, cold droplets of rain.

It took them about twenty minutes to find the tree where Katniss had heaved the deer on a medium height branch. The poor animal was barely held in place by a thin rope that looked like it would snap in half at the merest prompting. One end of the rope was holding the antlers while the middle was twisted around the thick limb, and the other end was tied awkwardly around the hind legs of the fellow, another loop on the branch and the very tip of the rope was hastily knotted to the trunk of the tree.

"How did you even manage it?" The question came out more like an incredulous whisper, followed by a low whistle at the size and contorted position of the buck.

"By sheer willpower!" Affirmed Katniss proudly, circling her trophy's perch.

"Alright. Let's get it down, shall we?"

The two of them worked, huffing and grunting, pulling and shoving, until finally, finally, their prey was somewhat propped on the wheelbarrow, head lolling to the side in an awkward angle, while its legs stuck straight out of the confined space.

They stood back admiring their pitiful handwork with a great deal of pride in their accomplishment. Peeta never once mentioned the fact that Katniss could have warned him the wheelbarrow would be just a tad too small, nor the fact that the ground was terribly slippery with mud and flooded mossy patches of land, the going was so slow and hard.

To him it was worth it, he was spending time with the woman that intrigued him, doing what she liked, and watching her face shine beautifully under her disheveled appearance. She was breathtaking even waterlogged and trailing mud.

He never once asked for a break in the most arduous of treks he had ever traveled, even though he was short of breath and every muscle of his legs, back and arms screamed in pain.

He was idiotically happy, because when they finally reached the warmth of Twelveton Abbey's kitchen, and he delivered his burden to the cook and her helpers, the object of his affections jumped at him, circling her slim arms around his neck and impulsively kissed his cheek.

Oh! He so wished his arms hadn't felt quite like two strings of toffee, being stretched by a little boy. He so wished he had the strength to raise his arms and secure them around his distant cousin's waist to pull her close to his aching chest.

But alas, she let him go as soon as she had collided with him; a soft, sweet smile etched on her delicate features. She stood in front of him for a moment, simply studying his face, then without warning she brushed the wet curls off his forehead with the tips of cold fingers.

"You should let your hair grow back in." She said softly, retrieving her hand slowly.

"I've been wearing it short because you made an unfavorable comment about my ‘long’ hair right before Christmas," he said equally soft, running a self conscious hand through his soaked head.

"Hmm," the sound was pensive, as if she vaguely recalled something of the sort with mild surprise. Her eyes admiring his hair, darkened to a light brown by the rain. She finally brought her eyes to his, which had been watching her with rapt attention the whole time.

"Word to the wise, Peeta," she said quietly, the ghost of a smile curling the corner of her lips, "don't ever listen to what I say."

He chuckled.

"I think... I think I'm as fond of your unruly curls, as I am of the smudges of flour on your face. Shabbiness suits you." She turned on her heels, and left the kitchens, while Madge followed after her, cleaning the mud as she walked.

"Come join us for supper! I'll send word to your mother. I think you'll like venison!" Katniss threw cheerfully over her shoulder right before her voice was swallowed by distance in the hall leading upstairs.

Peeta chuckled again, shaking his head ruefully at Katniss' antics.

"My lord, you should better run along back to Mellark House for a warm bath and clean change of clothes. You're about to miss breakfast, if I'm not mistaken," said Sae patting Peeta's cheek fondly.

Peeta smiled down at her. "Do you think it'll be inappropriate to show up to my mother's table like this? I'm all for annoying the woman as of late,"

Sae laughed, "Off with you, cheeky boy! Quickly, before you catch your death in those clothes."

To say Peeta's day looked promising, was putting it mildly.

 

* * *

 

**April, 1913.**

"I really don't see what the problem is with any of these proposals, my lord." Said Haymitch placing the last piece of paper he held back on the Earl's desk. "You'll do well to listen to the Boy. He's got good ideas. You can put Twelveton on par with some of the most modern houses in England, the world even! Just think about it. In America, even the lowliest houses are fully electric and most of them have telephones as well."

"I think the boy's proposals are too ambitious." George sighed.

"Now, old friend, tell me having a telephone in your house won't be convenient." Haymitch fixed the Earl with a stare. "Let's say His Majesty, has an urgent request for you, and he has to rely on messengers and whatnot. Wouldn't it be so much easier, if the the King picked up his phone in Buckingham Palace, tells the operator to connect him with Twelveton Abbey on the outskirts of London, and in minutes, you are getting His Majesty himself on the line?"

The Earl's face cracked a little bit, a small frown wrinkling his forehead, a sure sign he was thinking hard and Haymitch was very close to winning an argument through his logic.

"Mellark is asking for not just the one telephone. He wants three of them! One for each house. I'm not sure we need that many," George argued, rubbing the frown on his forehead.

"It will keep all three houses communication’s at hand," said Haymitch easily, walking to the small bar in the corner to refill his glass with some white liquor he'd been nursing. "I could see Effie abusing her telephone privileges, calling every other telephone user she knows in England and perhaps overseas, but it would only benefit Twelveton." Haymitch came back to sit on his chair, watching the Earl carefully, as the man's gaze was seemingly lost in the horizon.

"I'm just not comfortable with the idea of modernising Twelveton, for the sake of modernising it. Some things should remain untouched by time," said the Earl sinking into his own chair.

Haymitch took a generous pull of his beverage, set his cup aside, and then spoke slowly. "My Lord, the problem with that is, change is coming, whether we like it or not. Modern life is upon us, just look at the papers, women are being sent to prison for supporting the Suffragette movement, and although parliament and the House of Commons have stayed firm on the matter of female voters, how long do you think they have, until their own wives and daughters rise against them, and the tides turn on the country? Change, as scary as it seems, won't give us the courtesy to stop because we aren't ready."

"What shall I do then?"

Haymitch drank again. "I think my lord ought to listen to the Boy's ideas. He's a sound business man in his own right, my lord, and whether you work with him now or not, someday he'll become master of Twelveton, and make the changes himself." Another sip of his drink, "The best course of action right now, is to stay alive, my friend. Stay current. Welcome change, and it will welcome you in return."

 

* * *

 

Effie drew an exasperated breath, glaring at her grand niece as she pouted in the sofa across.

"You, are being positively impossible, child! We are doing all this for your own benefit, Katniss. The least you could do, is show some gratitude. A little enthusiasm wouldn't hurt either!" The dowager made some comment under her breath about stubborn little heiresses, hiding her moving lips behind her cup of tea.

"How is an extravagant birthday party... a ball, no less, to my advantage?" Katniss huffed and puffed, crossing her arms over her chest, crushing a beautifully frosted cookie in her fist, while avoiding everyone's eye.

"It'll bring suitors!" Countered Effie with growing impatience.

"I'm not a debutant that needs to be paraded about in hopes to catch a husband! Maybe I do not want a husband at all!" Katniss defended herself.

"That's absurd, girl! Every woman wants a husband," said Effie dismissively.

"The Virgin Queen never married," piped Prim up from a bench at the other side of the drawing room, where she was supposedly reading a novel. "She said, and I quote: I would rather be a beggar and single than a queen and married. It just says a lot about a woman who knew her own strength." Prim's eyes remained glued to her book, while her tone was conversational at best, and unimpressed at worst.

"Dear me, are you comparing Queen Elizabeth to your sister's whims?" Screeched Winifred in outrage before she remembered herself, and withdrawn into her own chair.

"Whims?" Katniss seethed but before she could say anything else her mother intervened.

"Now, now, let us all calm down," said Lily concillitorially, serving another round of tea to the women. "I'm sure Winifred meant no affront, Katniss dear, but I believe Aunt Effie's idea has merits that should not be dismissed so easily,"

"Of course they don't!" Snapped Effie, ignoring Katniss' ill suppressed groan. "I must stress, we are running behind on preparations for Katniss' birthday party, but since she insists on not calling the event as such, then I move to deem it a Spring Ball, in honor of both girls. Primrose is at that age, where she should also be on the lookout for good prospects--"

"A husband? For me?" Asked Prim suddenly interested in the conversation, her book laying next to her, forgotten.

"Primrose is much too young," protested Katniss.

"Nonsense! Just because you don't want to marry, doesn't mean I want to follow on your footsteps!" Countered Prim.

"Didn't you just quote Queen Elizabeth on the desirability of remaining single?" Asked Katniss irritated.

"Only because it applies to you, and believe it or not, Katniss, I support you! You're my sister, and I want you to live a fulfilling life of your choosing." Prim's words were spoken fervently and with the heat of a true Everdeen.

Katniss was floored with her sister's show of solidarity. Her face softened, if they had been physically closer to one another, there would've been a sisterly embrace between the two girls, but there was a whole room full of Effie's hand picked furniture between them, Katniss only contented herself by smiling and softly mouthing a "Thank you, Little Duck," to which her sister nodded in acceptance.

"Silly creatures." Mumbled Winifred under her breath as she adopted Effie's action of hiding behind her cup and saucer.

Without acknowledging either girl, the Dowager plowed through with plans and ideas for the upcoming ball.

 

* * *

 

**8 May, 1913**

Sae stood at the door, blocking Katniss' entry.

"Just wait one more moment, child, and you may enter!" Said the woman giddily.

"For heaven's sakes, mrs Sae, why all this silly secrecy?" Katniss tried to sound annoyed, but the way her lips pulled upwards at the corners greatly diminished her harshness.

"Patience is a virtue, m'lady!" Came Peeta's sing-song voice from deep inside the kitchen.

It was ungodly early even for the two of them, but the day was promising, and the plans laid out by the Earl himself for his eldest daughter's birthday had the whole house aflutter.

Since the women's minds where stubbornly set on a Spring Ball to be celebrated two weeks hence, and everyone in Panemshire was aware the birthday girl reluctantly acquiesced on the matter, the Earl decided to give his eldest something she'd actually enjoy on her birthday proper.

He promised her the one thing that would make her happy beyond words: a hunting party! One without bloodhounds, horns and gunpowder, mind you; only a few hand picked hunters armed with bows, arrows and maybe a crossbow or two. There would be many helping arms to carry back their haul at the end of the day, of course, but both the Earl and his daughter preferred the quiet tracking of game than the big, loud to-dos of a high society hunt.

It was of small concern to the countess that all the invitees, except for Katniss, were in fact, male. Katniss was obligated to ask a couple of her female peers to join the party, much to her chagrin. She believed most girls would be too vain to be of use out in the woods for bow hunting. She could already hear them complaining about all the walking, waiting around and sitting quietly, yet, she refused to think of the shocked cries of disgust once there was a slain prey, and the sight of blood and guts would offend the others' sensibilities.

She was still looking forward to the event. And for some reason, Katniss looked forward the most, to finally taking Peeta out on a hunting expedition. She didn't quite care to analyze this excitement as she was afraid of what her reasoning would hint at, and she was not about to go down that road. Instead, she pretended it was only a ‘sisterly’ excitement since he had never been to one such outing before.

Peeta had been very eager to join the party as well, going so far as taking shooting lessons and an in-depth course on snare setting from Gale Hawthorne, who to the Everdeen's delight was also set to join the venture. Both, George and Katniss knew what an excellent hunter Gale was, and couldn't wait to see him in action.

"Can I come in now?" Katniss asked impatiently trying to squirrel her way around Sae to no avail.

"Just. One. More... THERE!" Crow Peeta with a chuckle. "Sae, you may allow little miss inpatient in!"

He stood next to the prepping table, arms open in welcome as well as presenting a small, beautifully frosted cake, decorated with white blooms sprinkled on the sides.

"What is this?" Katniss gasped, positively skipping towards Peeta.

"Well, I figured there is slim to no chance I'll be able to find a cake bush or some giant bread monster out there in the scary woods to shoot at, so I decided to catch you one of my own making in celebration of this momentous occasion," he smirked.

In a most unKatniss-like fashion, she giggled, swiping a finger on the creamy frosting.

"Oy! What kind of manners are those, Miss Everdeen? I spent a long time working on that!" Peeta exclaimed in faux grumpiness.

Katniss giggled again, "You shouldn't have, Peeta!" quickly inhaling the sugary blob on her index finger. She made a small approving sound at the back of her throat, adding, to a pleased Peeta, "On second thought, yes you should've! This is amazing!"

Her finger was diving once more into the fluffy confection, but Peeta caught her hand two inches from its target.

"None of that!" He chided tutting at her. With a small gesture to Sae, the old woman sat some dessert plates and forks next to the cake as well as a knife. "You will eat your cake like a proper lady. Now, if you please take a seat, I will be happy to serve you a slice,"

"Oh no, my lord!" Cried out Sae, rushing to take the knife from him, "I'll be doing that!"

"Sae, I'm the baker, and this is my confection, on any other occasion you'd be right, but it's a matter of pride for a baker to cut and serve his own goods. Now, you sit as well, and enjoy the fruit of my labour!" He ordered arching his eyebrows.

"But, my lord--"

"No buts!" Katniss piped up. "You heard the man, now as a personal favor to me, would you help eat this treat?" She smiled sweetly at the old cook, making her blush.

They knew they had her as soon as she sighed and pulled back a chair to the table.

"Mmm... best cake I've tasted!" Katniss said around a mouthful, causing Peeta to chuckle. "I want to save some for Prim and mother and father." She said staring down at the small dessert sitting prettily on a small dish, no bigger than a saucer.

"Of course. But this one is entirely yours," Peeta informed her, taking a small bite of cake himself. When Katniss looked at him quizzically, he added, "You didn't think I’d fail to make you a full size cake to be served at tea time?" He said sporting a devilishly lopsided smirk.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to forgive you every time you miss a target during our hunt," she lamented shaking her head, "I wish I had known this was your tactic to get in my good graces!"

"Oh my lady, since I've learned that the route to your good side is through the stomach, I vow to shamelessly exploit every opportunity I get and I truly intend to do it. Make no mistake!"

She smiled and heaved a breathy laugh, while shoving more cake into her mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't blame anyone for never returntj read any of my fics, since it took me longer than a freaking year to update, so if you're here, returning for the story: Thank you, so, so, much! You're an angel and I don't deserve you!
> 
> Some historical background:
> 
>  
> 
> **The Suffragettes **operated in the late-19th/early-20th centuries, and advocated for women's right to vote in public elections. It particularly refers to militants in the United Kingdom. Some of them were even viewed as terrorists at the time for their radical acts. I will do my best to mix in some real historical events into this story, and I hope we can all see how far women's rights have come since the 1900s.****
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **  
> **  
> **  
> **The telephone **was invented in 1876 by Alexander Graham Bell, but it was further developed by many others. It was the first device in history that enabled people to talk directly with each other across large distances and rapidly became indispensable to businesses, government, and households, while today the phone is the most widely used small appliance and technology has advanced into smart celular devices that connects people in mere seconds, there was a time when communications had to be handled by operators with consoles and to reach one destination, sometimes took a few minutes. Crazy to learn how people did it back then!****  
>   
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, this is only the introduction to the first chapter, or **Volume I** , which comprises the happenings of year 1 (1912), I'm going to tray and post the rest of the actual entry within the next few days, I would've done it today, but none of my devices wanted to cooperate, and I think I'm getting a cold, and my son is just getting over an ear infection... Anywho, the complete entry can be found on tumblr, @everlarkficexchange, go over there and read up on the rest of the awesome entries from all the other collaborators, leave them a message while you're at it!


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